


Post-Meridian

by simplysalty



Series: Meridian [1]
Category: Fate/Apocrypha, Fate/Grand Order, Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Berserker Cù Chulainn, F/M, Master/Servant, World War III
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2018-12-01 07:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11481516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplysalty/pseuds/simplysalty
Summary: [ book one of four ]Shirou Emiya had long been taking lives to preserve others. He had been giving up. Not all had been worth what it seemed, no matter how he tried to stay as naive and youthful as he was before. But he always came blank, unable to do so. He couldn't save everyone, he just couldn't. A world of peace was not achievable. His ideals were completely crushed, as a fire started on a battlefield, killing off so many of his allies, enemies, as well as innocent civilians. The flames spread so quickly, too quickly. Too quickly to be natural. But he didn't care - he had to save someone, anyone. Just to prove that his ideals weren't false, that they weren't a mistake. And he did. This is a story of the young girl he saved, this is the story of Hajime Emiya.





	1. prologue

It was unexpected.

It came without warning.

No words of advice had been given before it hit.

The fire, it just happened. It wasn't the cause of gunfire, nor a grenade. It just started without any known cause.

Many people were caught in its hungry flames, licking at their feet and eating them alive, as they screamed in pain, struggling to get away.

She just stared. Stared at the mayhem than was happening as she stood, blankly gazing out at the chaos beyond the door of her home, her broken home with its concrete walls on the floor from previous explosions. For a split second, she felt lucky.

Lucky she had been born into poverty - well, less money than most at least.

If she had been standing in a tall building for those who were born with money to back them, it would have collapsed and she would have died just a few minutes ago.

She flinched slightly as a chunk of the ceiling fell next to me, and she looked up before seeing the roof was unstable. Small pieces of plaster were falling from it, it was going to crush me soon. In a fit of slight panic, she forced herself to walk out the entryway to my home. The fire was all around her, but she couldn't let it get to her. Her pace slowly turned from a slow, tired walk to an all out sprint. Sprinting down the street, feeling the fire all around her as her eyes stung relentlessly.

It became hard to breath, the smoke surrounding my small form.

I can't die like this. I don't want to, I want to survive.

I want to live my life through, no matter how poor I may be, how worthless or talentless I may be.

I want to live.

That was the last thought that ran through her head before the building next to her began to fall. She didn't see it nor move fast enough to escape the impending doom, that was the rubble falling towards me, and she screamed.

She screamed louder than she had ever before.

But then she blacked out, the pain overtaking her.

 

 

This couldn't possibly be happening, where were all the people?

The young man ran about, his coat disposed of, his gun strapped to his back. He couldn't see a living soul, not anywhere. He couldn't let this happen.

He came here to save lives, not witness the death of the very ones who he wanted to rescue. More buildings came crumbling down around him, and slowly, his spirit dropped notch by notch.

For every building, there could be four or five people inside. Four or five people inside, who were probably just remains and crushed bones by the time he arrived. Desperately, he dug through the rubble. He would be satisfied to find even only some small sign of life. Anything.

A plant would suffice.

But then he heard it.

A shrill scream floated in the air, and he stood up rather suddenly, making a dash for where it came from. It sounded like a little girl. A child. No, they couldn't die, they were so young! He wouldn't let it happen.

He arrived at a fallen building, the damned thing destroyed and in pieces - he felt his knees grow weak and small tears fill his eyes. Had the girl died, just like the others? The others he couldn't save, no matter how hard he tried?

She's dead. That was the only thing he could think. The young man willed his legs to carry him to the rubble, before seeing a small pool of blood come from the edge of a large rock. Now that he looked closer, there was a small hand. It was pale, skinny, and a little gray - the hand of a child who possibly hadn't eaten in days.

No, no, no

He wouldn't let her die. There had to be a slim possibility she was alive, right? Right? He stood there for what seemed like forever, trying to convince himself that she hadn't died. No! These thoughts won't get him anywhere, he scowled, before gaining the courage to walk over to the stone and, placing his hands under it, heaving it away.

He pushed the stone a good distance before turning around to inspect the body.

The young man felt his mind go blank as he stared down at her.

A young Asian girl, a resident of the area. He'd completely forgotten he was on a battlefield in North Korea. This poor girl, an innocent civilian, had nothing to do with it, yet she had been pulled in. She was probably just trying to live her life, with what little money and food she had.

Rushing to her side, his hands hesitated above her frail, bloodied form. Would he hurt her by touching her? He could tell she was still alive from her breathing, which relieved him, but how was he supposed to get her out of this destruction?

Taking a deep breath, he carefully turned her over so she was lying on her back and took out some water and spare bandages. Tears fell from his eyes, both out of happiness he was saving someone, and out of the smoke hitting them. He held onto her small hand, a smile spreading across his face as he saw her weakly look towards him. She was alive, and still kicking.

He had to get her out of here, he snapped himself from his small "happy fit." He poured water onto her wounds, washing off the blood the best he could before wrapping up her worst injuries quickly.

The fire was spreading towards them and he had to get her into a safe area. Ripping off her burnt clothes, he picked her up in his arms as gently as he could before running through the flames, ignoring the pain all the way until he was back at the military base.

 

 

It felt like she was floating. Her body felt as if it was there, yet not there, rocking up and down with some imaginary waves below her. The faint sound of lights buzzing filled her ears, but her eyes remaining closed. The girl tried to open them, but to no avail - she quickly realized her body was ridiculously tired and exhausted, making it nearly impossible to move at the moment.

Her world remained black - rather, it was dark and she couldn't see much. All she could see was her eyelids as the light hit them, she assumed it was her eyelids anyway, seeing that everything was a reddish orange, with a few (what seemed to be) veins stretching across her vision.

She couldn't remember a whole lot, come to think of it.

Who was she? Her name didn't pop into mind when she questioned herself.

Where was she? She didn't remember that either.

The only vivid memories were a burning city, death in the air and faint screams for help with bodies everywhere, and a man with tanned skin, white hair and silver eyes looking down at her as if it was the happiest moment in his life - as if her just existing that moment then and there was the best thing that had happened to him.

Screw who she was, who was he?

The man who saved her life, the man who she felt indebted to, without even knowing his identity. The mere thought of him intrigued her.

But enough for now, she felt her consciousness slipping once again as she felt herself fall into her imaginary ocean, her thoughts becoming still and her breaths growing slower.

She was about to fall asleep once again when the sound of a door opening interrupted her peaceful state of being. There were two voices, speaking in an unfamiliar language - it sounded similar to yet completely different than her native tongue. Korean.

Yes, that word felt familiar to her. That was the name of her language.

And she was from...Korea! Yes, Korea.

Once again she was cut from her thoughts when the sound of footsteps approached her, and the rude sound of a chair being pulled up made her internally flinch. There was a slight sigh as the person sat down and she identified them as male, from what she could hear.

"Do you want me to open your eyes?"

The sudden words startled her, waking her from some sort of daze she didn't realize she was in. It was the same voice as one she had heard speaking in another language just a moment ago.

She did her best to open her mouth to speak, but was only able to move her lips enough to part them ever so slightly.

There was a deep chuckle, though it was out of both amusement and sadness. She heard the shuffling of cloth before feeling two large, warm hands touch her. She felt like flinching away but, of course, she was unable to do so. Gently, the hands, she assumed they belonged to the man who spoke to her, helped her sit up a little before pulling what she thought was a blanket a little further up her form.

When his warm hands drew back, she felt cold. Why were his hands so hot?

Then, she felt them on her eyes, carefully pulling up her eyelids, doing their best not to hurt her. The sudden appearance of the harsh light made her pupils shrink into small pin points before they slowly grew accustomed to the glare from above her.

There were long, white lights hanging from the ceiling, light green tiles as far as she could see without moving her eyes too much. There were white curtains on either side of her bed, and a curtain drawn around something on the other side of the room - another bed, probably, but she didn't try to look around too much, her eyes were too dry for that. Thanks to the unidentified person having helped her sit up, she was able to see him, though.

It was the man who rescued her - his tanned skin and white hair were impossible to mistake for any other. "There, can you see okay?" He spoke with a slight accent, implying he wasn't Korean like herself, but that much she could tell from looking at him. She knew her skin tone was pale, since she had managed to see her hands, and her hair was coal black. The opposite of him.

Trying to nod her head, she was taken by surprise when her head followed her commands, bobbing up and down, though very subtly. He looked so relieved, seeing her respond, his tense form relaxing considerably. He was sitting rather close to the bed, allowing her to have a good look at his face and take in his gentle yet stern features. He reached out and took her hand in his much larger ones, as if consoling her.

"I'm so glad you're okay, you were in really bad shape when I found you..." the man said softly and she nodded again, doing her best to show the man she was understanding what he was saying. He smiled at her before it disappeared as he remembered something. "Do you remember your parents?"

She shook her head, slowly gaining more strength and he saddened at this. "I see. Do you remember your name, at least?" No, she shook her head again. The man frowned, rubbing his thumb on the palm of her left hand. It felt comforting. "Would you be alright with me giving you a name for now?"

This time, she nodded her head. She felt she could trust this man, despite having met him...well, she didn't know how long ago, but this was her second encounter with him.

"Well...from now on, I'll call you Hajime, okay?" She - no, Hajime nodded. The name sounded strange to her, but she would get used to it eventually. "I'm Shirou, Emiya Shirou. I don't know if you'd approve of this or not, but I'm your legal guardian, starting today."

Wait, legal guardian? What did that mean? The complicated phrase flew right over her head, though she did understand 'guardian.' But either way she had no idea what he had just said. So Hajime nodded, not knowing what else she could do in this situation. Shirou looked like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and for some reason, that made her happy.

"You don't have to worry about anything, I'm going to help you through it okay?" Through what though? Hajime gave him a questioning look but he didn't answer it, just giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. "I have to go now, Hajime."

As Shirou stood up, though, she weakly reached after him. She didn't want him to leave yet, not when she had begun to feel so at ease in his presence. The white haired man saw this and he looked like he pitied her, yet felt touched by the gesture. He leaned over and petted her black hair, and hesitantly pressed his lips to her forehead. Hajime blinked at the gesture. It made her feel refreshed, almost. Energy entered her system and she felt blood rush to the rest of her body, pins and needles everywhere.

After a short moment, Shirou drew away and patted her cheek with a small grin. "Don't worry, kid, I'll be back tomorrow. So hang in there for me until then, aight?" Hajime nodded, and the ghost of a smile crossed her face. His grin widened before he waved, "bye Hajime, see you later," and straightened up as she offered him a faint wave as well.

The girl watched Shirou leave before attempting to sit up a bit more. And, thankfully, she was successful in adjusting herself slightly, though the feeling of pins and needles became stronger, making her flinch. She lay still before feeling exhaustion slowly creep over her once more as she closed her eyes, falling asleep again.


	2. chapter one

Birds chirped softly, as he sat on the wooden floors of his home. Shirou felt restless - it was still too early in the morning for him to visit Hajime, he had to wait another half hour before he could leave. He ran his fingers through his snow white hair, a heavy sigh leaving him before a small, genuine smile crossed his dry lips.

Hajime.

Just the thought of her made joy bubble up in his chest. The first person he'd saved (rather, first person he saved and was still alive). A child, a young child who had lost all hope of living to see the morning light the next day.

Shirou could easily remember the emotions that hit him when he saw she was alive that day. Alive, but with blank eyes. He had cried out of happiness, as if he had been saved. The white haired man closed his eyes as he held his hand over his heart, smile widening before it turned almost nostalgic. The whole scenario was so familiar to him, and it felt like only yesterday that his own father had found him in the rubble, and pulled him out, tears falling from his chin as he whispered thanks to Shirou.

For a short moment, he wondered if this was how his father had felt when he found him - after wishing to save everyone, it seemed like a whole city had died, his hopes were crushed and he felt devastated. Desperate. But then he found a spark of hope, and he ran for it, grabbing it into his hands, and he could feel again, think straight and be able to lift some of the guilt from his own shoulders. 

Then again, they had been in different situations - his father and himself. Though they were both fighting in wars, his father (adoptive father, rather,) had been in a magus involving war while he had been in, and still was in, World War Three. This magus war, which was in reality called the Holy Grail War, wasn't something Shirou wanted to get involved with, not for a second time. It only caused pain and suffering to innocents in the sidelines, and that was not something he would tolerate. However, he had been dragged into one before, and it truly messed with his head. Magecraft (one would likely call it magic, if they weren't knowledgeable in the fantasy world that they live alongside unknowingly) wasn't something he got used to very quickly, but he ignored all the laws of physics he'd learned in school in order to not get himself killed by questioning how magecraft worked.

He was forced to learn about it and how to perform it himself, and he had been using magecraft since then. Even in World War Three, where he had been pulled onto the battlefield as a soldier after America declared war on North Korea, who had stupidly shot a missile at Alaska. Unfortunately, North Korea began to involve other countries as well, and it resulted in a full out World War. Shirou himself had fought in one of the final battles, if not the final battle - the day the fire burned down the city. After taking his now adopted daughter to the infirmary, he was informed that they had successfully taken down the capital and that the war was considered over, the victory belonging to Japan and its allies; America, South Korea, Canada and Taiwan.

Shirou was relieved to say the least - no war meant that Hajime wouldn't have to go through all that all over again. It was a new beginning, a new start for a large portion of the world. And a first step for Shirou, after achieving his dream and new goal to be the best father he could. Hajime deserved a happy life, and a better home and family than she had ever had before - not that she remembered them, but still. He wanted to raise her to be a happy, kind woman.

He would not impose his dream upon her. While he had not been able to save everyone and all that he could, her life was all he needed to feel content. Once again, Shirou let out a heavy sigh before standing slowly, wincing when his legs scolded him for using them after sitting on them for so long. Straightening his back, he popped a few bones in his neck before entering his room, and glanced at the clock.

8:30.

It was time for his daily visit to the hospital.

Hajime lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes were devoid of emotion as she let her thoughts wander. She wanted him to come soon - for Daddy to come soon. Shirou had looked surprised when she called him 'Papa' for the first time but the look was quickly replaced by the biggest grin she'd seen from him yet. Yes, she understood, finally, Shirou was her new father, so she would treat him as such. With respect, reverence, and love. 

Love, the word felt a tad foreign to her. As someone who couldn't remember anything about their past, until the fire that is, she didn't know how valuable this affection really was, but seeing how much Shirou cared about her gave her a good idea. She had to take care of him, and make sure that he knew she loved him and appreciated him. 

Over the past few weeks, Shirou had come to sit beside her bed every day, at exactly eight thirty in the morning, to simply talk to her, hold her hand and pet her hair for hours. Whenever he was with her, in the quiet, white room, she felt happy. She felt at home, safe, and loved. Hajime didn't quite understand, however, how she could possibly feel so attached to someone despite knowing them for such a short period of time.

She traced her fingers over a book in her hands - an old picture book Shirou had given her, that was in this other language that he spoke. Japanese, he called it. The word sounded familiar but she couldn't quite place her finger on it so she brushed it off. She needed to recover as quickly as she could, apparently her legs were in particularly bad shape and would need a few more days, if not weeks. But what would happen after she left? Hajime opened the picture book to the first page - it showed a couple, an elderly one at that, sitting in their home near a river.

Would she live with Shirou, wherever that was? What would that be like? The uncertainty was eating away at her so she shook her head, erasing the thoughts. How silly of her, getting distracted by things like this. She'd opened a picture book, Hajime reminded herself, she was supposed to either read it or close it. Reaching to turn the page, she heard the door open and looked up hopefully. There was a murmured greeting beyond the curtains surrounding her bed, before she saw the ever so familiar head of white hair peek around the corner as Shirou appeared.

And, as usual, he was wearing the same trench coat, same black shirt, same black pants, but this time he was carrying a bag with him. Hajime gazed at it for a moment before smiling up at her father, who returned it whole-heartedly.

"G'morning, Hajime," Shirou said warmly, scooting his stool closer to her bed. He placed the bag on the bedside table. "Did you eat already?" His silver eyes peered at her expectantly and she nodded, but with a slight frown. Food here always tasted bad. But, sometimes Shirou would bring her small treats like a small bread that looked like a fish, called taiyaki or something like that. Maybe some dango (was that what it was called? She wasn't sure). Shirou chuckled at this, as if he expected that response, and fished around the bag until he found what he was looking for. Taking out a bowl, that had a lid, mind you, he pulled the medical bed's table and placed the bowl on top.

Curiously, Hajime propped herself up slightly so she could look inside. There appeared to be some long, crusty things that were a pale orange-yellow, over rice. She couldn't tell what it was exactly, but it smelled amazing when he removed the plastic lid. "Daddy, what's this?" Hajime looked up at him and his smile softened a little.

"It's called tempura, it's a shrimp that's cooked and covered in a crunchy coating called panko," he explained, and Hajime watched his hands as he tried to use them to describe this 'tempura.' She nodded eagerly, and took the pre-packages chopsticks he offered her before (after struggling with breaking the chopsticks apart) attempting to pick one up.

Hajime's brows creased as she struggled with picking up the fried shellfish, her hands shaking. It was a lot heavier than she had expected, plus since the coating was soft in some places, from a type of sauce, she assumed, that just made it all the much harder for her. Shirou watched, amused, as she brought it to her mouth carefully, only for it to fall back into the bowl. A pout crossed her face and she grumbled in annoyance. Out of determination, she attempted a few more times, only to drop the tempura, every single time.

Having finally laughed enough, Shirou placed his hand on hers. "Do you want me to help you?" Hajime glared at him, and to her dismay it didn't affect him at all, it just made his eyes crease more as his smile grew. She pouted at him, relenting, and nodded. Handing the chopsticks to her father, he pulled the bowl a little closer to himself before using the chopsticks to cut off a small piece of the shrimp and picked it up with relative ease, before holding it in front of her mouth. "Come on, eat it," he encouraged.

Hajime hesitated before eating it and she chewed a few times before swallowing. He looked at her, questioningly, wondering what she thought of it. The only response he received was a soft hum, which he took to mean she liked it. Shirou continued to feed her until all the rice and tempura was gone and she was drinking from the glass of water a nurse brought her a few minutes before. "Are you full?" He asked Hajime, and she placed the cup down, nodding.

"Thanks for the food, Daddy," she smiled at him and his ears turned pink. She looked like the sweetest thing on the planet right then, pure, innocent, still incorrupted by the world around her - it almost reminded him of...

Shirou mentally shook his head, taking his mind off of it for now and focused on his daughter. He loved her, she was one of a kind, and open minded yet stubborn. He silently thanked whatever power there was that she didn't remember her life in North Korea - if she had, that would have made this whole thing painfully difficult. From what he'd heard and seen, citizens in North Korea had practically been brainwashed into believing the Kim family were gods or divine beings of some sort. Not something he would want to be true. If Hajime had remembered any of it, Shirou was sure she would have panicked upon seeing him, and either have run and possibly worsened her injuries, or attacked him with whatever was closest to her.

"Of course - I can't have you starving in here, not on my watch." They both smiled a bit at this before Shirou placed the lid back on the bowl, putting it back in the bag before pulling out two sketchbooks. One seemed used, while the other appeared to be brand new. "Hajime," he addressed her and she took note at the tone of his voice. "I've been keeping some secrets from you. They're very...important secrets, and very dangerous ones at that. I want to tell you them now, but it's too hard to explain when you're still recovering. This one will explain it a bit better than I can, and this one's just for fun," Shirou handed her the sketchbooks, which she both took, albeit with some difficulty due to their weight. "What you read in there, you can't tell anyone. If you have questions about it, let me know tomorrow, okay?"

Confused, Hajime simply nodded. Asking questions in this situation wouldn't get her anywhere, and she knew that. Shirou seemed relieved, before giving her some long, stick things. They were pointed at the end with a dark nub. Noting her response to the object, Shirou rubbed the back of his head. "That's called a pencil, the dark end leaves marks on things." Shirou took one of the pencils and drew a line across the cover of the new sketchbook. "See?"

Hajime blinked owlishly, looking at the pencil in her hand before placing the pointed end on the cover of the sketchbook and dragging it down as well. She left a light line of gray behind and studied it for a moment. It reminded her of the pens the doctors and nurses used to write on their reports. "Thank you," she looked up at Shirou, smiling again and he smiled in return, the tip of his nose reddening slightly. 

"No problem. Anyway, did you have a dream last night?" Shirou lightened up as he leaned his elbow on the bedside table, watching her intently as she went on another dramatic description of her unconscious adventures.

"You adopted a child?!"

Shirou winced at the disbelief in his friend's voice as she stared at him, eyes wide. "Yes, I did. Her name's Hajime."

The woman who sat across from him rubbed her temples, closing her eyes before looking up at him, her gaze as scrutinizing as ever. She ran a finger through her brown locks and let out a heavy sigh before taking a sip of her tea. The two of them sat in silence for a moment until she placed the cup back into its saucer and looked back up at him. "Shirou, why? You're going to end up like your father, pushing your ridiculous beliefs onto the poor kid - "

"Her name is Hajime, Rin."

" - and she's not going to be able to break free from them," she frankly ignored his interruption. It was his turn to sigh as he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. Shirou briefly glanced to the window, the moonlight shining through the clear glass to clear his thoughts. Rin, this woman wouldn't let him off without a proper explanation, and even after he had given it to her she still wouldn't believe him.

"Rin, I don't intend to push my dream onto her shoulders. My dream...to save everyone, I've long realized it's not possible, it's not something I can do. However, it was because of this belief I could find her." She gave him a patronizing look. "Rin, listen! She was dying, the whole city was burning down and everyone was dead. I entered the war in hopes of helping preserve as many lives as possible, and look at what I was capable of!" Shirou's voice raised, a scowl growing on his face. Rin opened her mouth to speak but he slammed his fist onto the table, cutting her off. "I'm not going to take any of this from you. She means everything to me, Rin. She's the only one I could save, and she...she reminds me of myself when Kiritsugu found me on he rubble."

Shirou paused for a moment, before chuckling at himself, almost bitterly. "What am I even saying? She saved me. I was desperate, Rin, clawing onto any sliver of hope. They were all dying, and yet there was her, so stubbornly clinging to life. She lost everything, she lost her family, home, she even lost her identity. When I asked her what her name was, she just shook her head. Hajime has no memories of who she was, no memories of anything, other than when I pulled her out of the fire, and everything from then to now."

The two sat in silence before Rin shuffled slightly - awkwardly, even. She hadn't expected an outburst like this from Shirou. "Then...what will you teach her? You only know so much, Shirou." The white haired man gave her a hardened gaze, and she flinched again.

"I will teach her how to be happy, and appreciate life for what it is. All I want, Rin, is to see her smile. She shouldn't have suffered so much, she deserves a better life, a better family and a better environment. She deserves a clean slate, a new chapter to her life. If she wants to go to school, I'll pay for the expenses. If she wants to live in Korea again, I'll move. If she wants to learn magecraft, I'll teach her all I know. Anything she wants, I'll give it to her."

At this, Rin's brows furrowed. Shirou? Teaching a young amnesiac Projection? The odds were against him but she had to have faith in him and his odd determination, he wasn't the type to back down from a promise he made, whether it be to himself or a complete stranger.

"I won't stop you, Shirou," she sighed. "But no way am I going to let you raise her alone. I'll come visit when I can to make sure she isn't dead yet."

The white haired man chuckled at her words, any concern or frustration lifted from his features and he smiled at her. That was the woman he knew so well. "I really appreciate it, Rin."

A week or two had passed, and Hajime was to be discharged later today. Soon.

So soon.

So soon, it made Hajime's hands shake in both anxiety and excitement. What was the outside world like? She hadn't seen anything other than the pictures Shirou had brought her. Trees, streets, cars, buildings, and so many people.

Hajime hadn't seen many people since she woke up for the first time in the hospital. Just the doctor, the same five nurses, Shirou and the two other patients who shared her room. The idea of seeing "so many faces you could forget who's who" made her squeal on the inside. She couldn't wait!

But she also had her doubts - worries, concerns, whatever you prefer. The sketchbook her father had given her, the old one, it had several illustrations of strange designs, a summoning circle and links connecting unfamiliar names to one another with descriptions. The next pages were purely explanations, lectures if you will, full of complicated words Hajime didn't understand.

Things like "seongbae." What was a "seongbae?" She didn't quite understand, despite it being in her mother tongue. So, for now, she pushed it aside. If the phrases surrounding it told her anything, this "seongbae" was an extremely important and powerful object capable of mass destruction, and granting wishes. The wishes half interested her, but, sadly, with the amount of drawbacks, fighting and death written on the next page, she decided it probably wasn't worth it.

From what she could understand, this "Seongbae War" included lots of magic, people dying, and explosions, none of which were things she wanted to get involved with. Well, maybe except magic, that sounded intriguing. There was no section of the sketchbook dedicated to magic, however, there were brief mentions of things like "Mana," "Summoning," "Ritual" and "Spirits." It all sounded dangerous to her, but Hajime was sure it couldn't be completely dangerous, right? Otherwise why would people enter this "Seongbae War?"

And come to think of it, none of this book was in Japanese, the language Shirou had spoken since birth, and yet it was old. Why had he written it in Korean?

Shaking it off for now, with the help of a nurse, Hajime pulled on a pale blue long sleeved shirt, black skirt and a pair of shoes. They looked a bit like the fancy black shoes Shirou wore to his visits sometimes, and that made her a little giddy. She really loved her father. The nurse smiled at her as she twirled around a few times, thrilled to be out of the bed for good. "Come on, your dad's waiting in the main lobby."

"Okay, lets go!" Hajime grinned widely and waved good-bye to her roommates (all of which, waved in return and wished her safe travels,) before waiting for the nurse to open the door for her - she was too short to do it herself. When the white dressed man turned the knob, she was in the hallway, running down as fast as she could, despite how weak her legs felt.

"Don't run, please!" Someone called to her, but she ignored them. She didn't need to acknowledge them if she wasn't going to be here tomorrow, or the day after that.

Hajime had been to the lobby before and deliberately memorized the way there in preparation for this day, the day Shirou would take her outside and to his home. Taking the stairs two at a time, she received many calls for her to be carefully and she simply waved to them before reaching the bottom and bolting to the front desk, seeing the tall dark trench coat and white hair facing away from her.

The receptionist saw her and said something to Shirou, who turned around just in time to catch her as she threw herself at him. A little bit of breath was knocked out of him, but he laughed a Hajime clung to him, with a toothy grin as she looked up at him.

"Hey there, kiddo, ready to head outside?" She nodded quickly as he lifted her up onto his shoulders, holding onto her legs.

"Uh-huh!" Hajime placed her chin on Shirou's head, her small hands holding onto his soft white hair. "Let's go!" She cheered and Shirou chuckled again, thanking the receptionist before marching to the door.

"Onward!"


	3. chapter two

After having stayed in Shirou's home for a bit over a month, it was fair to say she could make some complaints. While she loved Shirou's attention and care for her, she was always concerned he was missing out on some work he should be doing. But, every time she asked him about it, he would give her the same unreadable smile and shake his head, telling her that he'd already finished his work for the day.

She never questioned it, but at the same time she'd never seen him work working, like the jobs in the books would say. He never left home for work, only to get groceries or talk with someone, and he was never working in his room, either. Shirou would simply watch her, talk to her, and occasionally leave to cook their meals or use the bathroom.

Another issue she had was the sheer size of the house. It was larger than she had anticipated, since all Shirou had said to describe the building was, "It's much smaller than the hospital."

But no, it was almost as if he was lying - the building was massive. Definitely not as tall as the hospital, she'd give him that, but it was still quite large. She couldn't walk through four doors without getting lost. Her father found this rather amusing, so would ask her to get things from around the house, only for her to stare at him, bewildered before looking around, overwhelmed.

Hajime was well aware it would take her at least two or three months to get used to the house, but seeing she had that time, she would do fine. She wasn't particularly used to the outside world yet, but she would eventually. And that brings us to our next subject - school. The word meant nearly nothing to her, other than the strange descriptions that her father provided her with. A tall brick building with lots of windows, tables, chairs and a chalkboard in the front. But she was told she was going to be attending something called sogakko, wait, was that how you said it? Shogakku? Shokakku?

She shook her head, clearing her head of the useless ponderings, then gazed out at the courtyard. The sunset's warm tones shone in her eyes, but not brightly enough to force her to cover them out of fear she would go blind. Hajime felt a large warm hand on hers, and smiled, turning to her left to see Shirou, who returned her smile. She held onto his pointer finger with her petite hand, giggling softly. "Come on, sit on daddy's lap," Shirou chuckled, lifting her up and suspending her in the air, shaking her a little before laughing softly and placing her down on his legs.

Accustomed to this, she curled herself up slightly, leaning her head on her father's chest as she hugged her knees, staring at the setting sun.

"Daddy?" The man in question replied with a hum. "Are you a wizard?" He paused before chuckling again, though this time it was a mix of sadness and bitterness. Hajime looked up at him with a slight frown, did she say something wrong?

Shirou paused to think. A wizard? Well, he supposed he shouldn't be too surprised to hear her call him that. People who used magic in folklore and fairy tales weren't usually called "magus." He petted her head, feeling her smooth, freshly cleaned onyx locks against his calloused hand. "No, I'm not a wizard...I'm a much weaker version, called a magus. Wizards are very strong magic users and they're extremely rare. Does that make sense?"

Hajime stared up at him innocently, her dark brown eyes gazing into his silver ones. "So you're not a wizard?" Ah, he should've expected that response. Half of the words he'd just said, didn't make sense to her, not to mention there was no Korean word for magus, nor in any language other than English, something she didn't even know existed. Shirou hugged her small form with one of his arms as his free hand propped him up, humming in thought.

"No, I'm not a wizard, but I can use a type of magic that's made for people like me," he tried to explain simply and to his relief, she nodded sincerely this time - it seemed she had understood.

"Daddy, what type of magic do you use?" She adjusted her body slightly so she was facing him. Hajime found this interesting. Magic that wasn't for wizards? Was that what the book was talking about? What type of magic was it?

"It's a complicated word, I'm not sure if you'll be able to remember it." She pouted at this, giving him a huff and a frown. Seeing her reaction, Shirou felt a tad guilty, and he relented. "It's called magecraft, it's a very special ability. Only a few people can use it." He made sure to say the Korean word for sorcery instead, not quite knowing how to say "magecraft" in said language. Shirou made a mental note to tell her what the actual name was, the way he knew how to say it anyways, once she learned Japanese (something she hadn't achieved quite yet).

"So Daddy's special?" Her eyes were shining very brightly at this. Her father was truly someone amazing - much more so than she had though beforehand, and that was really saying something. Hajime held her father high in regards and respected him, looked up to him and hoped to be like him. Kind, generous and friendly. He had been in a war of some sort, she knew, and from what she read her father had endured a lot, and she was amazed he'd kept his sanity after all that.

"I suppose you could put it that way, yes," Shirou patted her head fondly. Hajime grinned widely before yawning softly. "Oh - that's right, it's almost time for bed, how silly of me to forget."

She nodded at this, and was going to hop off his lap to go to her bed, but Shirou scooped her up into his arms and walked there himself. Looking up at him, he seemed strangely tense, apprehensive, if you will. "...Daddy? Is something gonna happen to you?"

He seemed surprised by this before quickly shaking it off and offering her a reassuring smile as he opened the door to their room, walking to the bed he'd bought for her and laying her down. Hajime wasn't in dire need to change her clothes, seeing as she hadn't gone outside at all today, so he didn't request for her to do so and simply tucked her in, kissed her goodnight and turned off the lights.

The black haired girl stared at where her father had stood just a moment ago. She felt a tad dumbfounded, confused and perhaps flustered as well. This was the first time he hadn't answered her questions at all. And to make matters worse, this was the first time he'd ever left her alone in their bedroom. Usually he would tuck her in, turn off the lights before dozing off himself. 

But why wasn't he doing that today? And come to think of it, it was extremely strange that he of all people hadn't been keeping track of the time. He almost always knew what time it was, rounding to the nearest multiple of five, at least, so today shouldn't have been any different.

And to add onto that, Shirou's eyes had been a bit distant since around breakfast when he was eating with her. Was he remembering something? Lost in thought? She doubted it, though, Shirou wasn't really the type to do those sorts of things.

Admittedly the former sounded more likely than the latter. Should she go investigate? Hajime frowned - no, probably not. Her father wasn't all that subtle but he was fast so by now he could be a mile away if he'd ran. Maybe she'd call for him? Yes, that would be a start at least. Shirou always responded when she called for him, so if he didn't that would mean he'd left the house.

"Daddy? Where are you?" Hajime's loud voice echoed in the room, but she was only met with silence. That confirmed that he had left, and it scared her a little. She'd never been alone without him at night, every time she woke up when he moon was in the sky he would be there, either resting peacefully or writing an email, or letter. And come to think of it, she never knew who those were for either. "Daddy?" She called again, sitting up this time. Her small hands gripped onto the covers as she hugged it to her chest, glancing around nervously.

Once again, there was no response from the silver haired man. Hajime climbed out of her bed, landing a little roughly on the ground and letting out a small whine as she rubbed her feet, before standing and looking around. The room was dark, but her eyes were slowly getting adjusted to the severe lack of light. After a moment or two, she was able to make out the bed, desk and door to the hallway. Walking over to it, she attempted to open it, only to budge it a vet short distance before she realized this was to be a bit more difficult than anticipated. Gathering her strength, she tried again, this time managing to open it just enough to squeeze through and into the cold length of wood, extending from one side of the house to the other. It felt rather strange without any sounds other than the trees rustling outside and her own breathing but her largest concern was the fact that there was less light in here than in the bedroom, making it hard to see anything.

Hajime felt a small chill run down her spine, starting to feel a little scared. The things she had read in the sketchbook rushed back into her mind, about assassinations and killing people against the law. What if someone had killed Shirou? What if someone wanted to kill her? It was unlikely, she knew, but if her father was special that would make him stand out and people don't like those who stand out. They didn't like them because they were too different and she knew her father was like that, if the silver hair, eyes and magecraft told her anything.

Gathering her courage, she took a deep breath and frowned, closing her eyes. "Hmmmmm..." she tended as she tried to ignore the fear creeping up on her. She knew she was young and vulnerable, but like her father said, "if you can't defeat yourself then you can't defeat others."

She didn't know where he got that from but she would try listen to him either way. Hajime opened her eyes and sucked in a large gulp of air. "DADDY!"

Her voice rang throughout the house and she paused for a moment, once again taunted by the silence that surrounded her. Hajime's shoulders slumped before she carefully walked down the hall, then breaking into a mad dash to the dining room, where she jumped onto the small box of dolls Shirou had gotten her and curled up inside of it, feeling safe. Safer than before, at least. A small whimper left her as she hugged one of the stuffed animals and covered herself with as many as she could get her hands on - of her back was in physical contact with as many as she could get her hands on, she would feel secure.

No, she couldn't defeat her fear. She wanted to either confirm it or be able to deny it confidently. In a state of uncertainty, she felt scared. Hajime hugged one of the dolls to her chest.

"Daddy where are you...?"

Shirou left their room, a worried expression growing on his face. He'd forgotten he was supposed to pick up Rin from the airport today - she had been in London for a month and wanted to visit him and Hajime when she returned, that return being now. He turned on the sitting room light, if Hajime needed to get herself some water, thought it wasn't likely since she was probably asleep at this point.

Hopefully.

Locking the gate behind him, he left the estate and got into his car, beginning the long drive to the airport. Starting the vehicle, he buckled himself in before pulling away from the curb and driving down the street, and taking a turn when the traffic light turned green. Shirou really hoped he would reach her in time - if he was late, she would be sure to give him an earful and a good smack upside the head, and neither of those sounded particularly appealing to him. Plus, if Hajime woke up and he was gone, she would panic.

What if she hadn't fallen asleep? A bit of dread crept onto him at the thought of that before shaking it off as he pulled onto the highway. If that was the case, he hoped she had remembered about the phone and would call him, something he had instructed her to do if he was gone and something went awry. But he'd never seen her panic or get upset, other than one time when he tripped and sprained his ankle, so he didn't know how she would react to not having him around.

"I'm going to have to get there and back quickly..."

Thankfully, luck seemed to be on his side for once in his life, as there were no accidents or major traffic jams on the way there. So, rather than the expected hour of travel, he only took forty-five minutes, managed to get a parking spot, and made a mad dash to the Terminal to wait for her. He may be early, but who knows, if his luck was so good today, maybe her plane would land earlier than anticipated.

Not that he was counting on that, though, seeing as his luck was horrible, and even if luck was on his side, it couldn't really effect how quickly the plane would take to arrive. Taking a seat on a bench, Shirou heaved out a sigh and took his phone out of his pocket. He stared at it for a moment, thinking over his options before averting his gaze.

Was it worth calling Hajime? What if she was asleep and the phone ringing just scared her? He felt conflicted, before simply resolving not to call her. He trusted her to figure out what she needed to do.

Glancing up at the LED screen, he checked for Rin's flight - as predicted, she'd just landed, meaning it would take her anywhere from ten to twenty minutes to reach where he was, near the carousel to help her with her luggage. Shirou's silver eyes shifted to the other people walking past him. Observing them, he scanned over each person's expression before switching to someone else.

This was something he'd began doing as a habit of sorts when he was a Japanese soldier during World War Three - it felt like just yesterday that he was in Pyongyang, charging to take Kim into custody and capture the capital of North Korea. They had so stupidly decided to bomb the United States of America, send ships into Japanese territory and anger several other countries. He'd been part of a small special force squad, seeing as he could use Magecraft. His companions in the squad could as well, and usually they would be on the front lines attacking first to widle down the opposition before the other forced arrived.

It wasn't the smartest technique but it was something. Unfortunately, as a result of the constant use of his Projection, some rebounds had taken effect, changing the color of his hair and his skin tone. Though he wouldn't doubt if some of the new tanned tone was partially due to being in the sun for long periods of time.

He was slowly becoming more like him...

Was there really no way he could have avoided this? Shirou looked at his hands, skimming over the calloused, from holding so many blades - too many blades. Yes, he could have. He could have been more calm about the war, and attempt to study different veins of Magecraft.

Of course, Shirou always could have left Japan and gone to England, but he wasn't the type to let the war be while he was still standing on his two legs. Besides, if he hadn't participated in the war, then he would have never encountered Hajime. The image of Hajime's battered, bloody body flashed through his mind and he furrowed his brows, lips twitching downwards. No, he didn't like that. Not at all.

Shirou would have loved to have rescued at least one other person from the flaming city, but he hadn't been able to. Only Hajime, his adoptive daughter whom he thought of as his own. She was pure, still innocent on the surface, but he knew that the fire she'd awaken to would stick with her forever. He knew from personal experience, after all.

Ah yes, the fire that had burned down his hometown, the Fuyuki fire. He still lived in Fuyuki City, albeit on he half of the city that wasn't completely roasted by the flames. Shirou had later found out that the fire had been a result of a Holy Grail War ten years prior to the one he took part in, through the Servant he had summoned, who had apparently fought in the previous War as well. His Servant, she kept blaming herself endlessly for what had happened; when the two of them were sitting alone, she would apologize seemingly out of nowhere. But the distant look in her eyes always told him what was wrong.

No matter how many times he told her that she was forgiven, his own forgiveness didn't seem to be enough if she couldn't forgive herself.

Shirou heaved out a sigh, looking up to check the time. Eight minutes had passed - it was time to carefully scan the crowd for a hot-headed girl with brown hair.

There was no way in Hell Rin was going to leave Shirou to his own devices, with a child amnesiac, a huge home, and a "my-life-doesn't-matter-as-long-as-she's-saved" attitude. That would be hectic, and despite his promising not to impose his ideals onto her, she highly doubted his daughter wouldn't pick them up even with him barely telling her about it.

Come to think of it, what was her name again? She'd completely forgotten...Rin knew for sure it was a rather masculine name, but that's all she could remember. Heaving a sigh, she hefted her carry-on bag onto her shoulder, walking from her first-class seat and to the door of the airplane. By now, Shirou's daughter, from what she got through him, was around five or six years old, much too young to have experienced something of that scale. The fire, that is.

Rin could only shiver at the thought of seeing bodies everywhere, blood on the ground with buildings falling down around her. That would surely be the end of her if she didn't have her jewels with her - she did use Jewel Magecraft after all. When she stepped out of the walkway and into the airport building, her blue eyes glanced over the various shops and stores around her. Feeling her stomach starting to throw profanities at her, she simply bought a bowl of (low quality) ramen, knowing that even after the white haired male picked her up, it would still be a long ride back. And since it was late, she shouldn't have him stay up later by cooking.

She finished eating in record time, before speed-walking down the halls as fast as she could, taking the fastest path possible to the carousel.

Rin, being the oh so considerate family friend, had brought gifts from England for Shirou, his daughter, and her friends who still lived in Fuyuki, or were passing through. She had been a resident of Fuyuki ever since she was very young - as long as she could remember, in fact. Until after she finished her non-magecraft educational career, that is, which was when she and Shirou had gone to England to study Magecraft in a place referred to as the Clock Tower. But in all those maybe eighteen or so years, she had made a few friends, met too many people for her to remember names or faces anymore, and was the school idol in high school.

Standing on the escalator, her fingertips brushed over the bracelet wrapped around her right wrist, shining as if it were gold or some type of precious metal. It was, in fact, made of silver, an easy to access and relatively cheap material usable to those who practiced Earth Magecraft. She herself had not studied this vein of Magecraft, so it would seem useless for a Magus such as herself to wear it, but this bracelet was one she received from an old friend of hers. That is, if Rin had the liberty to refer to them as such. She was never sure if they were friends, or simply allies for a short period of time, but she'd taken a liking to that friend despite their somewhat rough start.

Rin snapped herself from her own musings as she reached the bottom and stepped off, her backpack (something she would have preferred not to bring, but seeing as she would likely be running around a lot, this type of bag would likely come in handy - more so than a purse) securely fastened to her shoulders, with her hands holding onto the straps. Reading the signs, she walked off to her right, almost breaking into a wild dash. She needed to get to Shirou as soon as possible.

Once she reached her destination, she looked over the surprisingly large crowd of people for a stupidly obvious head of pure white hair sticking above the bunch of people. And, in a record time of two seconds, she saw him. Then again it was pretty much impossible to miss him, with his odd hair color, tanned skin tone and ridiculous height of one hundred eighty-five centimeters.

It seemed that only about half a minute passed before their eyes met, and Shirou smiled, waving to her. Rin let out a soft laugh before waving back and pushing through the crowd towards him. "Good to see you again, Old Man," she teased and he rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

"Good to see you too, Goblin." That only earned him a punch in the arm. "What was that for?!"

"Don't insult a woman," she huffed and Shirou shot her a look, making her laugh, before turning to the carousel. The suitcases from the airplane had been circling for a while, and the two of them waited in comfortable silence before picking up her suitcase and beginning their walk to his car.

Rin glanced up at Shirou every few minutes, always averting her eyes straight ahead whenever he almost caught her in the act.

She'd never quite gotten over her romantic interest in him, and she knew he was fully aware of this, but they never acted upon it, whether it to be to shoot it down or accept it. Rin couldn't forgive herself for this attraction either - Shirou had, after all, promised himself to someone else. She'd been very jealous, but it was his decision, and she would respect that. It was the least she could do after the amount of times he'd saved her life during the Fifth Holy Grail, which they both took part in as Masters.

But now, she was just worried about Shirou. She was sure he had noticed it as well, that he was becoming more like the man he didn't want to be.

'Kill the few to save the many,' he'd said that to her once when she asked him why he was fighting in the War. He held a slight point, seeing as the military Japan and its allies were facing against was considerably smaller than them (despite their military ability, seeing the war went on for nearly eight years), but that wasn't the Shirou she'd grown up with. That wasn't exactly the Shirou she'd fallen in love with initially, but it didn't make her love him any less. It simply saddened her that he was becoming more and more like the person he didn't want to be.

Hopefully, they would be able to fix this before it happened and Shirou disrupted some major events.

"Here we are," Shirou's voice snapped Rin from her thoughts, and she noticed him holding the car door open for her. She thanked him, and he simply nodded, before closing the door behind her and getting into the driver's seat and starting the car. Her blue eyes watched his movements, studying the way his clothes wrinkled and straightened as he fiddled with the windows and began to drive out of the parking lot.

He was worried about something.

"How's your daughter?" She figured she would try to help him a little. His daughter seemed like something he'd be worrying his white head off about. And, seeing his brows twitch, she knew she'd hit the nail on the head.

"Hajime, she's doing well, and learning really fast. She's already picked up a decent amount of Japanese and has been asking a lot of questions about everything outside the house." He paused. "To be expected, I suppose, seeing that she hadn't really been outside the estate since I brought her there. And Rin, before you demand me why, I want to make sure she knows how to speak Japanese before she goes into town. That way it'll be less intimidating for her."

Rin nodded slowly - what he said made some sense, but still! You can't keep a child walled in forever, that wouldn't do her much good, if any. But she had to trust Shirou that he would go outside with her at some point. "By the way, I never got to ask you - " Rin turned to look at the road again, " - why did you name her Hajime? Isn't that a boys' name?"

Shirou was sent for a moment before humming softly, almost contemplating. "Because, she is the cause of a new beginning - the first step, foundation and reason for a new part of our lives. And frankly, I don't care if it's a boys' name. She likes her name and that's all that matters. If she doesn't like it or decides it doesn't fit her anymore, I'll allow her to legally change her name."

Rin felt her brow twitch. Shirou was seriously spoiling this child. Was that good or bad?

"...the reason I'm concerned is that I'm not sure if she was asleep before I left."

Alright, definitely bad.

"You what?!" Shirou flinched at the tone she was using, but he completely understood why. He'd been irresponsible and forgetful, two things he as a father should not do. Rin's blue eyes were on fire as they bored into the side of his head - he felt like he was going to melt under her gaze any minute now from the heat she was letting off. "Shirou you idiot! She's probably panicking right now!"

"I know," he replied softly. He felt severely ashamed of himself for not taking better care of Hajime, he felt he didn't deserve to be called her father anymore. His friend's eyes were still ablaze but they shifted elsewhere, making a wave of relief wash over him - but in no way was he at ease. Shirou had been nervous ever since the possibility of her being lonely came to mind on the drive to the airport, but now he was practically begging the traffic to go faster so he could reach home, hold her close and reassure her. Hajime would be angry at him, and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for that. "When we get to my place, the first thing I'm going to do is make sure she is going to be alright."

Rin nodded at this, approving his decision. She didn't know Hajime, heck, she'd never even seen her, but she still cared for the child nonetheless. Hajime was Shirou's daughter after all, and therefore someone she had to help take care of. 

She tightened the grip on her backpack, which now held its place on her lap, and fumbled with the zipper. She hoped that after Shirou helped Hajime calm down, or go back to her room, that she would like her. If Hajime didn't like her, that would only complicate things. And on top of that, she hoped the young girl would like the gifts she'd gotten her.

After all, not only had she spent a long time thinking about what to get her, and spent a lot of money, from what Shirou had told her through calls and letters, Hajime was a sweet and happy child. Usually, children annoyed her, but he had reassured her that she would like his daughter, so Rin was trusting him on that. Realizing the car had come to a stop, Rin hefted up her bag and exited the car, shutting the door behind her before looping one of the straps over her arms and going to the trunk to help Shirou with her luggage.

"Here, let me help out," she reached out to take her bag, but he grabbed it before she could reach it. Rin felt her eye twitch in irritation and she glared up at him heavily as he smirked at her. "Shirou..." He inwardly gulped, before shutting the trunk and making a run for it. "Get back here!"

"You'd gut me!" was his reply, his laughter filling the chilly night air as he opened the gate and dashed to the front door, Rin hot on his heels.

The Holy Grail was most definitely bored. It had nothing to do, and it could feel the Einzberns plotting something again. Honestly, those Magus were insufferable - they kept trying and trying again, to win the war, through any means possible, and though that usually wouldn't bother it, it was simply the amount of times they tried over the span of a century that frustrated it. That family honestly would not stop.

Thankfully, after that (bastard) Kiritsugu Emiya had been thrown out of the Einzbern family, in effect, he'd taken in a boy, a most interesting boy, as his own (during the aftermath of the first part of the Fifth Holy Grail War), and maybe accidentally, maybe not, caused that boy to become one of the next Masters (during the second part of the Fifth Holy Grail War). And, this is "thankfully," because that boy, despite having attempted to destroy it, and that made it rather angry with him as well, aided in the killing of the youngest Einzbern. And that made the Grail hope it would lead to the family stopping altogether, but it seemed it was wrong.

They were trying again.

But it wasn't anything particularly out of the ordinary, which was why the Grail was bored. It was supposed to wait maybe another half a century before starting the next War, but it was seriously considering starting the next one sooner since it simply had nothing better to do. One would think this would have happened a bit sooner, but there hadn't been any Wars nearly as fascinating as the Fifth one and it wanted another one just like that. It was figuratively jumping out of its skin just waiting for the forty-some years to pass, for the next War.

Maybe, but it didn't quite have the patience for that.

Maybe it would start one earlier just to kill its boredom, and flip the Einzbern family the birdie by starting it sooner than anticipated.

Maybe it shouldn't.

But maybe it should.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Hajime, after having stood perfectly still for what must have been an hour, decided to peak out from under the stuffed animals. Seeing nothing was moving, other than the shadows cast by the trees outside, she slowly straightened her back so she could get a better view of the room. The small separator between the dining area and the kitchen remained, as always, with the table in the middle of the room just as she remembered. Nothing had changed, save the color of the light and the amount of it present.

She felt her stomach gurgle, hungry, and willing to eat her if she didn't fill it. The thought made her shiver, but for some reason the feeling didn't seem particularly foreign to her - as if it was normal. Carefully, she climbed out of the box, taking quick glances around the room before tip-toeing to the kitchen. Stopping before the doorway, she hesitantly looked around the corner, before, to her relief, confirming that there was no one and, or, nothing there that could hurt her. Relaxing considerably, she walked over to the refrigerator and, after a bit of struggling, heaved open the door and felt a wave of cold, icy air wash over her. The light from the small bulbs at the top of the bottom compartment almost blinded her with the sudden white hitting her eyes, but Hajime simply squinted, scanning the shelves for anything she could eat.

Spotting a clementine, her chocolate orbs lit up and she snatched it off the shelves, before studying it. How was she supposed to peel this? She frowned lightly as she turned the fruit around in her hands - she knew from her father that you were supposed to peel it, but how would one peel it? The skin was thick and strong, two things about fruits that Hajime didn't know how to handle.

Her hands were small, weak and frail, definitely not things that would come in particularly handy when peeling a clementine. Or any citrus, for that matter.

Huffing irritably, Hajime closed the refrigerator before turning away to walk back to the safety of the toy crate. She felt safer now, knowing that the chances of her being killed, kidnapped or worse was low. If something was after her, surely it would have gotten her by now.

With these thoughts in mind, she could sit down in peace and enjoy the silence. Well, not enjoy, more like barely tolerate it and not rush back to her and her father's room, where it was probably colder and more lonely. At least in this room, she had access to food and water, and could sleep in her little pile of dolls. Hajime climbed back into the box in question, before attempting to stab the fruit with her fingers.

It was, for the most part, unsuccessful. "For the most part" meaning that while she had made a small mark in the fruit, she hadn't done a lot of damage. Mumbling in annoyance, she jabbed it again and whined when some juice squirted into her eye.

Hajime felt tears well up and she sniffed before dropping the clementine to the bottom of the box and trying to rub the juice out of her eyes, but to no avail - she simply made it worse, because there was juice on her hands. A whimper escaped her and she curled up into a ball again. Everything seemed to want her hurt or dead. She didn't want to leave the box again.

Yeah, maybe it was a better idea to just stay in the box and not move.

Rin finally caught up to Shirou, though she knew he'd slowed down on purpose, and tackled him from behind. He stumbled, almost falling over, but managed to catch himself just before his nose made contact with the door. The two laughed, before Shirou's chuckles died down and he grabbed his keys, unlocking and opening the door as quickly as he could. Kicking off his shoes, he took Rin's bags and put them in the hallway before rushing to the next room.

Knowing he was looking for Hajime, Rin took her time when removing her coat and footwear, turning on the lights Shirou had forgotten to activate and followed after him.

"Hajime! Hajime?"

Oh dear, he was making a ruckus. Rin shook her head in disdain, but looked around as well, to see if she could spot a small girl. She didn't need to look long, however - a young child came sprinting down the hallway and ran into Shirou's legs, hugging them tightly. From the looks of it, and sounds, she was crying.

"Daddy! Daddy I was so scared!" The girl's voice was cracking, her shoulders trembling as she held onto Shirou for dear life. Her father's eyes saddened as he gazed at her, crouching down and gently taking her into his arms. Tenderly, he brushed the hair from her face and held her close, rocking her back and forth slowly.

"Daddy's really sorry - he won't do it again...he didn't mean to make you cry, Daddy's a bad man," he murmured. Rin almost felt guilty, seeing this, but shook it off quickly as she watched them. Clearly, the two were very close; she felt severely out of place as she watched them interact.

The girl, Hajime, Rin assumed, cried softly into his chest, grabbing small fistfuls of Shirou's black shirt and containing her wails the best she could - a commendable feat for a girl who was maybe six years old. Shirou shushed her, still rocking her back and forth before letting out a deep breath and petting Hajime's hair as he leaned his chin on the top of her head. "Shh, shh, everything's going to be okay. Daddy's here now..."

The young girl in his arms relaxed a bit, breaths evening out, but it was clear she was still shedding tears, crying, and trying not to hyperventilate. She had to admit, it felt strange, seeing this side of Shirou. Rin had always known it existed, but seeing it like this was a little "off," so to speak. Especially since Shirou looked so much like...the person he didn't want to be. Not immensely, anyways.

"Daddy's mean..." Hajime's sobbing stopped, but tears were still staining her face as she sniffed, leaning her head on Shirou's shoulder. Rin felt her lips twist upwards a little; the two of them, despite this being their first exchange she had witnessed, were quite cute. She thought that Shirou would be a pretty bad father, but she seemed to be being proved quite wrong. She watched him hum softly before glancing at her and subtly nodding down the hallway, indicating that she should follow.

"Daddy won't do it again, he promises. Daddy won't leave you alone," Shirou murmured, walking down the hallway. He showed Rin to her room, one rather close to his own, and was silently offering to help her settle in, but she shook her head and waved him off.

"Take care of your daughter first," she explained, and he nodded gratefully before leaving her to her thoughts as he entered his own room with the crying girl.

Rin stared after them before looking around the room - it was very familiar to her, the bed was still where she remembered, as was the furniture. She had stayed in this room before, during the Fifth Holy Grail War, and she remembered this room quite vividly. It was a relief, though, that the mess of clothes, personal belongings and notebooks she'd left all those years back had found its way to the trash, charity, or to the homeless. And also noticed an addition to the bedside table, a picture frame. Curious, she stepped a bit closer to get a better look. Turning on the lamp, she sat on the bed (which bounced her up and down slightly before settling once more) and picked up the frame, holding it closer so she could see it.

The picture was one of her, Shirou, and their Servants from the Holy Grail War. It had been surprising when her own Servant had agreed to be in the photo, but then again, the Servant seemed to know that the picture was going to be important. To be expected, she assumed, seeing who he was. Shirou's Servant seemed rather happy to be standing with all three of them, seeming to be practically glowing, even in the image captured by the camera. Her smile was wide, get gentle, with either of her hands on Shirou and Rin's Servant, as she stood very close to Rin.

The brown haired Magus chuckled, a bit bitterly. She missed Shirou's Servant; she was a kind soul with pure intentions, yet a formidable rival and hard Servant to overcome.

Placing the framed photo back on the bedside table, she got up to unpack her things, change into pyjamas, and go to bed. It was nearly one in the morning and she didn't want to be jetlagged the next day.


	4. chapter three

She was sitting on a bed, in her room; moonlight dripped through the window, the thin curtains filtering out the imperfections. The night was nearly silent, the exception being the billowing of the cotton that separated the outside air from the warm atmosphere within the safe confines of the stone walls.

She held hands with the man to her right, his hands stronger and warmer than her own thin and gentle ones. She leaned her head against the man's shoulder and continued to gaze at the open window, the chilly autumn breeze jostling the white drapes as she placed her other hand on his arm, tracing small circles on his forearm.

"We shouldn't be doing this," came the man's voice - it sounded smooth, deep, and worried, and she imagined his face wearing a light frown, rather than the scowl it usually held. Her fingers glided down to their hands and she held his in both of hers. He twitched slightly, a little surprised by the action, but not overly so.

She shifted her head too look at him, and smiled, lovingly, gently, before leaning forward and pecking his cheek quickly. His expression softened and a small smile tugged on his lips as well as he gazed down at her.

"If you want to stop, we can," she murmured in reply. His eyes met with hers and she noticed sadness, pain and reluctance swimming in small, discreet circles within his pale orbs. This saddened her, to see such a reaction. They both knew the gravity of the situation they had placed themselves in, and they had known even before it had happened.

He didn't respond for a moment, simply leaning his own head on hers, before placing one of his hands on her leg, rubbing softly with his thumb, almost in consolation.

"It's selfish of me to want to stay like this," he whispered, and took in the scent of her pale hair. He sat up straight, and cupped her cheek with one hand, the other placed on her arm, his grip tighter than intended, giving off an air of desperation. "...but let me be selfish, just this once...I understand that I don't deserve to be in this position, but..." He trailed off and looked away, refraining from completing his sentence. Guilt was the only thing that greeted him when he tried to express how he felt.

He began to draw his hand away from her face, but she quickly grasped onto it, startling him, before holding his hand, just as she had been before.

"░░░░░░...look at me," she commanded, and he complied, bringing his gaze back to hers. Her expression was that of sadness, worry and, ever so slightly, determination - determination to achieve her goal, no matter what it would take. "You don't understand how this makes me feel, to see you so hopelessly despaired by something so...so ridiculous!"

She yanked his arm, pulling him closer to her, her nose barely a centimeter away from his own. She let go of his wrist, before cupping both of his cheeks with her hands, making sure he knew he couldn't get away.

"Don't you dare think that you do not deserve to be by my side - if anything, it should be the other way around. You have rescued me countless times, fought for my mediocre desires and wishes, and convinced the head to let you stay here with me. You have gone to such lengths for me, while I have done nothing in return. All I have to offer is the person I am, and the body I possess. I have no talent or knack for battle, and no courage when facing danger." She paused to take a breath before continuing. "You were the one who taught me Magecraft, you were the one who explained the War to me, you were the one who, no matter how many times I annoyed you, bothered you and nagged you, always stayed with me. You deserve much better than the frail, weak woman before you."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she gave him no chance to speak. "░░░░░░, you can be selfish - take what you want, take everything if you so wish, you could take everything from me, from my family, and I would forgive you." Her hands slid from his cheeks, to his neck, before wrapping her arms around it. She was embracing him now, trying to convey her emotions the best she could. "You already know that I love you, with all my heart and soul; I will let you do anything, because no matter what you do, I will support you and aid you to the best of my ability."

He sat there, slightly stupefied by her words, eyes trailed down at her in shock and surprise.

"Please..." she met eyes with him again. "Please be selfish. It's the only way I'll be able to repay you for everything you've done for me, the widowed woman who lived in despair and hatred until you saved her. Do not be afraid to speak your mind to me; no matter what you say, how I perceive you will not change. Do whatever will make you feel comfortable, happy, perhaps at home - it pains me to see you like this, afraid to express yourself because of your insecurities."

He felt his chest burst with a slight warmth as she spoke, heart beating stronger with every word. Yes, he could be selfish. He could be carefree. He could say what he wanted, though he didn't want to, to keep her from worrying about him. She didn't deserve to be involved with a monster such as himself. She deserved a more refined, pure and capable person who could treat her better than he had been. But she had stated he could, he could do all those things.

"...▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓, thank you..." He slowly wrapped his burly arms around her small frame and relaxed as she smiled with a small giggle. "I will...try to be more selfish from now on...

"I love you."

 

Rin woke up with a start, almost throwing her blanket off the bed, onto the innocent wallpaper and wardrobe, both of whom had done nothing wrong and had been sitting silent and still the entire night. Breathing heavily, her eyes shakily took in her surroundings before her hands fell onto her lap. She had to admit, she was surprised by the dream – she didn’t think she was the type to have romance dreams, but apparently she had proven herself wrong.

Who was that, though? Who was the man she had been speaking to? Who had she been speaking as? Possibilities rushed through her mind, before she came to the annoying realization that she could not remember what the man’s face nor body looked like. The only thing she could recall were his large, warm hands and the soft air he’d given off.

What did he look like?

The question shook her to a frustrating degree, but Rin forced herself to shake it off by slapping her own cheeks and getting out of bed. Maybe she would ask Shirou about it later, to see if he knew anything about this. The dream felt too real to be simply a dream. The brunette lazed over to the dresser that stood beside her bed, and leaned down slightly to look in the mirror, and scowled lightly at her messy hair and disheveled appearance.

She could think about her weird night encounters later; for now, she had to focus on making herself actually presentable, and place herself in good spirits. Opening her luggage, she scaled her eyes over the contents before pulling out what could be considered her usual outfit – a white turtleneck, and a dark brown skirt that reached a bit past her knees. She stripped herself of her pyjamas, quickly replacing them with her day clothes and returned her gaze to the mirror.

Rin ran her fingers through her messy hair, and winced when they came across a knot. Digging around for a moment, she managed to find her brush and patiently began to untangle her dark locks. She was looking less like a bush by the minute. Once she was satisfied, she tied her hair into a somewhat sloppy pony-tail, made her bed and was out the door.

The early morning light gently peeked into the hallway through the sliding doors and she smiled a little as the nostalgia hit her in small waves. It felt like just yesterday, when she was here with Shirou as high school students, fighting in the Fifth Holy Grail War, with their respective Servants. She was, without a doubt, glad it was over, but there were, naturally, things she missed from when they were involved in such a disaster.

She missed her Servant, Shirou’s Servant, the excitement and emotions that had swum within her as they encountered their enemies, but in the end, it was better that it had come to a close. After all, that would mean that it, if the Grail acted as it had before, would start the War maybe fifty years from now. Less innocents would die, and by then, surely Magus would have become more advanced and better at, specifically, “not including innocents in such an atrocious event.” But, as the head of a noble, in its own way, Magus family, she had plenty of first-hand experience with how uncaring, arrogant and corrupted most Magus were.

Caught up in self-importance, and overly prideful, often taking offense to the most minor things. The likelihood of them actually trying not to involve others in the War was unlikely, they were more likely to not care who they involved, unless it was a non-Magecraft user, in which case they would have to kill the witness.

As she quietly sauntered down the hall, she offhandedly recalled when Shirou had seen her Servant and another Servant battling, resulting in Shirou’s death – though she revived him later. Since he was assumed to be a non-Magecraft user, and someone who was not involved, it was by the rules that he would have to be killed. Tracing her fingertips along the wall, Rin sighed ever so slightly and followed the hall into the dining room, the only room she could confidently say she was familiar with.

Enjoying the silence, she sat down by the table and almost subconsciously, her eyes trailed to the empty seat beside her – one that had used to be occupied by a dear friend of hers, but he was now absent, and had been for what would soon be half her life.

“You’re up early,” Rin jumped in surprise and whirled her head around to see Shirou standing behind her, with a friendly smile. She took note of the pleasant-to-the-eye blue yukata, varying in shades, Japanese clouds sprinkled across the surface of the cloth, with a white obi that matched both his hair and eye colors quite well. “I hope you aren’t too jetlagged – if you’re still tired, feel free to go back to sleep at any point.”

She returned his smile, in more of a smirk, and waved for him to sit down. He complied, but not in the seat beside her, or directly in front of her, but in the seat just to the right of the one across from her. Rin took note of this, but didn’t mention it. “I appreciate the offer, and it’s tempting, but the sooner I try to adapt, the sooner I’ll get used to the time zone. Besides, I wanted to see the house again, when it’s the crack of dawn. Memories, and all that cheesy stuff,” Rin waved her hand up and down at him, extracting a short chuckle.

“Well, it’s not as if I can tell you to get some rest, so I’ll let you decide whether or not you need it.” Shirou had a much different air about him than she was used to, since she had seen him last when they’d met up in a hotel somewhat near the Korean hospital Hajime had been being held in. Perhaps being a father for nearly two, or three (she couldn’t remember) months had changed him, for better or worse.

“When does little Hajime wake up?” Rin asked, and Shirou perked upon hearing his daughter’s name. There was a little sparkle in his previously blank, silver eyes and his smile softened to one of genuine happiness. She was a bit surprised by this, but then again, both him and Hajime had rescued each other in their own ways, so she should have expected such intimacy between them, no matter how short their time spent together was.

“I’ll wake her up in maybe another five minutes. I usually wake up a bit later than now to make breakfast, but seeing as we have yet another mouth to feed, it’ll take more time to cook something up.”

Her brow twitched. “I’m not sure if I should take that as a joke or as an insult.”

“Take it however you’d like,” he sent her an amused look, before leaning on the table and gazing at her intently. “Has the Clock Tower been treating you alright?”

“Alright, yes,” she nodded, “Not much has changed, but Lord El-Meloi II has seemed to take some interest in me. After all, he did take part in the first half of the Fifth Holy Grail War.” Shirou hummed at this, before standing.

“Tea?” Rin nodded. “Alright – you can keep talking, I can hear you from the kitchen.”

“Other than his increasing interest, nothing particularly eventful has happened. Honestly, going on lectures is somewhat stressful, but once it’s over you realize how much you’ve actually explained to the students and how much you’ve helped them. It’s a great feeling when they participate in class and do well on their assessments, knowing you succeeded in doing your job.” She paused for a moment. “Father, his job wasn’t one that I knew too much about, but as far as I knew, his only so called ‘job’ was to be rich, spread his name, and grab at anything he could get.”

Shirou hummed again, assuring her he’d been paying attention, as he poured hot water into the teapot.

“Well, how about you? I’m curious about Hajime and what’s been going on with her,” Rin changed the topic slightly, seeing an awkward silence fast approaching.

“Ah, yes,” he turned around, carrying a tray, with their teapot and tea cups placed on it. “As you could probably imagine, I’ve told her about Magecraft, and the Holy Grail War and its dangers. She hasn’t taken particular interest in learning Magecraft just yet, which is understandable, seeing as she still wants to learn more about the world she both forgot, and didn’t know about before.” Shirou placed down the tea and poured some into their cups, steam rising from them. “She has also been picking up on Japanese rather quickly – she should be able to speak a decent amount by the end of this year, but written Japanese will take longer.

“As for school, I’ll be enrolling her when the next academic year begins, since it’d be good to place her in an area where she can interact with others and learn with them. She’s six, so it is required anyways, seeing as she’s a resident of Japan now.” Rin nodded at this, silently thanking her friend as she reached for the tea and winced when she touched it. The cup was a lot hotter than she had anticipated. “Also, Fuji’s coming over really soon, I think I forgot to tell you.”

Rin blinked in surprise. “Fujimura’s visiting as well?”

“Ha-ha…after calling her about Hajime, she demanded she come and see her,” Shirou explained sheepishly and the brunette shook her head at him, both amused and slightly frustrated. The white haired man took a final sip of his tea and stood up. “Speaking of Hajime, I should wake her soon, it’s eight seventeen.”

Rin nodded and waved her hand towards the door, shooing him. He playfully huffed at her before leaving the room with a small chuckle, closing the door behind him.

Walking down the hallway, he heard the faint slapping of feet in the short distance and smiled lightly – she must already be awake. Shirou opened the door to their room and, as he had predicted, Hajime was shuffling through the lowest drawer in their dresser, which was full of her clothes. She looked up when she heard the door slide open and a bright grin spread across her small face.

“G'morning, Daddy!” Hajime abandoned the messy drawer to run over to her father and hug his legs. The white haired man crouched down a little so he could lift her into his arms and place her on his bed.

“ 'G’morning' to you too, kiddo,” Shirou patted her small head and she leaned into his hand as he petted her hair. “Let’s get you dressed – one of Daddy’s friends is going to be with us for a while and I want to introduce the two of you,” he explained and Hajime nodded once with a somewhat serious expression to show she understood, but to Shirou it looked like a mix between a pout and a frown. He raised a brow in confusion before scooting himself over to the bottom drawer to see whether or not his daughter had made a complete mess out of it.

It wasn’t a wreck, but it would be a lie to say it was orderly. It seemed as if Hajime had been taking the folded clothes, inspected them without unfolding them, before placing them somewhere else in the dresser drawer as not to be asked to re-fold her clothes later. He sighed, carefully sorting through the various types of clothes before taking out a simple yukata for her to wear indoors – it was very unlikely that they would be going outside today, and even if they were, it wouldn’t be terribly strange for a child to be walking with her parent in a yukata. It may be twenty twenty-five, but yukata were still somewhat in fashion and the culture was just barely managing to survive in the hearts of the modern generations and sharply decreasing birth rates.

And since he was a child of the “old generation,” it wouldn’t be overly surprising if he himself wore a yukata, since it was somewhat of an unspoken stereotype for his generation to wear traditional and out-of-fashion clothes.

But mind you, Shirou was well aware of all the latest fashion trends in Fuyuki, as well as Japan and Tokyo. He also got himself up to date on the culture of Korea and the now-on-lockdown China, to be sure he could accurately and correctly teach her about the country she used to live in before he found her in the rubble. He’d ordered a few more books to help her learn Japanese, as well as a few children’s Hangul, Mandarin and English books. He wanted to make sure she knew some useful languages before she became a teenager, since he had no doubt in his mind that at some point she would be off and studying abroad – from what he could tell about her, she was the adventurous type; then again, she was still a child and therefore still had a long time to develop her character.

He closed the drawer before walking over to Hajime and sitting himself down beside her, placing the red yukata behind himself and helping her take off her pyjamas. After a slight struggle with her shirt (Shirou made a mental note to get her a larger one, as she seemed to be outgrowing her pyjama top), he stood her up and put the yukata on her, pulling the sleeves over her arms and tying a slightly make-shift-ish obi, really just a cherry oak brown sash, around her waist and brushing her hair.

When Shirou had first started this whole routine, he really couldn’t deny that he didn’t really want to do it at first, but once it started to happen over and over each day, he got used to it and grew to look forward to it.

“Hey Daddy?” Hajime’s small voice brought his attention to her as he ran the brush through her tangled locks of black hair.

“Hm?”

“You don’t know my old name, right?”

Shirou was a bit taken aback by the sudden question - she’d never asked anything related to her old life before since they left the hospital.

“No, I don’t.”

“…I see.”

The two of them fell into a somewhat comfortable silence, though the sound of birds beginning to sing outside and the metal bristles working against the knots in her hair remained. A few moments later, Shirou pulled a strawberry orange hair band off his wrist and tied her hair into a pony tail, before patting her head and standing up.

“C’mon kiddo,” he encouraged her and she smiled up at him again, grabbing onto two fingers of his offered hand and they walked down the hallway together. Shirou’s arm was jerked downwards softly at the consistent tempo of Hajime’s happy skipping, and he smiled as well, though slightly more wistfully than his daughter.

He’d never expected to feel this familiar wave of happiness once more; it felt refreshing, like brand new realization of something he had been questioning all his life. Perhaps Shirou was over exaggerating to himself, but the more the better – that way he could always remember to be with his daughter and, rather than save everyone, simply save her. He could not get his wish to save all the people of the world, but the feeling of being able to save only one person was devastating yet filled with light and hope.

Realizing they had arrived back in the ‘dining room,’ Shirou gently let go of Hajime’s hand to open the door for the both of them. His silver eyes swept over the room before finally settling on Rin, gazing curiously at Hajime, who happened to be staring right back.

“Err – hello, you must be Hajime,” the woman began rather awkwardly. Shirou almost pitied her for the look of nervousness that crossed her face.

“Uh-huh, you Daddy’s friend,” Hajime grabbed onto her father’s yukata with one hand, the other clenching her own tightly, looking down at her feet. The brown haired woman scared her a little – she didn’t seem friendly and warm like her father, rather, serious and cold-eyed like some of the other children who sat in her hospital room.

Rin blinked in confusion, hearing the somewhat broken and lightly accented Japanese. It took her a second to remember that the girl who stood before her was not Japanese like her name implied, but one of the few survivors of the battle in Pyongyang; a Korean girl who didn’t know much about the world because she lost her memories.

“I’m Rin, it’s nice to meet you,” she tried her best to use the simplest Japanese she knew to ensure that the two of them could communicate effectively, and her lips twitched upwards when the young girl’s eyes sparkled faintly.

“Nice to meet you Miss Rin,” Hajime nodded, her gaze still not meeting the older woman’s. Shirou smiled softly and crouched down to his daughter’s height and patted her head.

“Why don’t you sit down next to Rin so I can go make breakfast?” Shirou suggested gently and Hajime nodded obediently, walking with a spring in her step over to Rin and sitting in the seat directly beside the female Magus.

The two sat in silence before Rin decided to break through the tense air. “Your name is Hajime, isn’t it?”

The girl in question looked up at her and nodded.

“How old are you?”

Hajime paused, holding out her fingers and counting in a language Rin didn’t understand, but she assumed it was Korean. The girl turned back to Rin before pausing again, realizing she didn’t know how to say all the numbers in Japanese. “Uhm…” Hajime looked back to her hands and counted on her fingers before displaying all five fingers of her left hand and the index of her right.

“You’re very young, aren’t you?” Rin tried to remain patient with the child. Usually Japanese children of Hajime’s age, from what she had experienced so far, also whom she’d met more of than children from any other country besides England, would already know how to speak full, complete, informal sentences and say the numbers without too much of a problem.

But since Hajime did not fluently speak Japanese, nor knew much about the culture, or any culture for that matter, she had to try to understand the child’s situation and shape her own attitude to fit Hajime’s. Otherwise the friendly relationship she wanted would not be created.

“M-hm,” Hajime nodded her head. Her expression was growing more and more cheerful upon the questions. Though Rin’s eyes held some sort of conflict that unsettled her slightly, the woman herself didn’t seem all that bad. Hopefully the first impressions would prove to be true and Hajime’s sense of others’ personalities would not fail her.

“Do you like living here with your father?” Her blue eyes finally met Hajime’s chocolate brown, allowing her to see the relief, happiness and purity swimming within them. The sight both relaxed and unsettled her.

“Uh-huh, Daddy’s really nice and reads me books a lot!” She rocked back and forth, the soles of her feet meeting and her hands on her ankles (also called the butterfly position, for whatever reason,) with her hair swishing back and forth.

This intrigued Rin. “What kind of books?”

“Three Samurai Cats, the Boy of the Three Year Nap, and sometimes he’ll read me things from the sketchbook!” The sketchbook the girl mentioned did not ring any bells in Rin’s mind, so she simply assumed it was something that Shirou had given her or shared with his daughter at some point.

“And do you like them?” Another nod and hum was Hajime’s response. “I also hope your father hasn’t done anything to upset you?”

There was the sound of jostling and metal clanging against metal before Shirou peeked his head out from the kitchen so he could see the girls better. “Do I hear someone doubting my parenting ability?”

“Loud and clear, Shirou, loud and clear,” Rin gave him a teasing smirk and he sighed in response, comically shaking his ladle at her before going back to cooking, extracting a snort from Rin and a giggle from Hajime. The little girl tilted her head in thought, before turning back to Rin.

“Nope! Daddy isn’t mean at all!” The woman smiled at this, glad to hear it.

“Good, good…”

Rin glanced over Hajime’s features; thin, frail, skinny and so pale she looked like she’d just walked out of the Arctic Ocean. In a way, she supposed the girl could be considered cute, but the bony quality of her fingers as she fiddled with her yukata took away from that slightly.

She had to admit, she was a bit worried for Hajime. Since, as expected, the world was rather small-minded, it was very likely for any other children she encountered to consider her someone who should be avoided. Hajime was North Korean, after all. She may have had absolutely nothing to do with the battles waged because of World War III, but that wouldn’t keep ignorant children from recognizing her as Korean at all.

Hajime was going to enter school not too far from now, and she didn’t want anything to happen to her. She was just a child, after all.

“Miss Rin?”

The brown haired woman blinked, feeling a slight snap in her head before meeting Hajime’s eyes again.

“Are you special like Daddy?” Rin raised a brow inquisitively, not entirely sure what she meant.

“Special thing that Daddy has, that only special people like Daddy can do!”

It didn’t take two more seconds for the Magus to realize what Hajime was trying to say. Magecraft – she was asking if Rin could use Magecraft. She had completely forgotten that Shirou had already told his daughter about it.

“Yes, I’m special like your father, but he’s much more special than I am.” Hajime smiled at this, and clapped her hands excitedly.

“Daddy’s very, very special!" The woman nodded - there was no way she could deny that. While he may be a third-rate Magus, his Magecraft was still remarkable and impressive on many levels.

“Well, changing the subject a little, I have some gifts for you that I brought from England,” Rin said, feeling a silence fast-approaching. It didn’t have the effect she would have liked, however, which she realized when Hajime put on an expression of confusion.

“Miss Rin, what’s an ‘England?’”

 

Breakfast had passed a bit awkwardly – to Rin, at least. She had no idea what to say to the child, both because Hajime was different from most children she had encountered, and Hajime didn’t speak as much Japanese as Rin did, making communication somewhat difficult. So, she simply watched carefully as Shirou and Hajime interacted, trying and failing to understand their conversation.

It wasn’t because it was nonsensical (well, maybe it was, Rin wasn’t sure), it was because they were speaking in Korean, and it didn’t help much that she could say with such confidence that she knew not a word of the language.

When Hajime finally finished her meal (and Rin really meant finally – the girl took forever to eat, it was absurd), Shirou cleared the table, placing the various dishes in the sink to be washed at a later point, and the girl soon found herself being pulled along by her father and Rin to the female Magus’ room so they could see what she had brought for them as gifts.

And not too long after that, Hajime’s hands were fully occupied by various sweets, a stuffed animal, and a bag full of gemstones.

“Miss Rin, what are these?” Hajime inspected the various shining jewels, her vision somewhat limited from the dark blue dog plush blocking the way.

“They’re called gems,” Rin explained as patiently as she could, “But these are very special gems. I used my special powers to make the gems special like me, and they can keep you safe if you’re in trouble.”

“Gems?” Hajime blinked – the word didn’t feel strange, in fact it rolled off her tongue quite nicely. “Gems can be special like Daddy and Miss Rin too?”

“Yes, but not as special,” Shirou chipped into the conversation. “Rin can use her special powers to give the gems only some of hers.” Hajime made an ‘O’ with her mouth and nodded eagerly, getting a basic grasp of Shirou’s explanation. “They can only use Rin’s special powers a few times, so those are very important, don’t lost them.”

Rin saw Hajime nod again, holding the jewels a bit closer to herself. Standing up, she stretched her back, which hurt from crouching down and bending it for a rather long time. “Alright, that’s all for now. Do you want to do something together?”

A sound of playful disappointment came from Shirou’s direction as he pouted lightly. “There’s nothing for me?”

The woman simply turned and stuck her tongue out at him jokingly.

“How rude!”

The white haired man suddenly felt a nudge on his leg and looked down to see Hajime with a determined glint in her eyes. “I can make something for you Daddy!”

A feeling of warmth coated his chest as a smile formed on his lips, and he lifted her up into his arms. He said something to Hajime in Korean, and from the expression that Hajime made and the whiny reply, Rin guessed he’d told her she didn’t have to.

“Of course I got something for you, idiot. I’ll give it to you later though,” she chuckled and rolled her eyes when Shirou sent her a triumphant smirk. Hajime, from her place in her father’s arms, shouted something (once again in Korean) and he let out a small sigh, though it wasn’t out of exasperation.

“Hajime says that she wants to go outside,” Shirou explained. Rin quirked a brow before remembering that Hajime hadn’t been beyond the borders of the Emiya household for a long while. “I would usually refuse, but I think that she should go outside now that she’s got two people with her. What do you think?”

Rin gave him a bewildered look before rubbing her chin and glancing at the girl in his arms. “Sure, I don’t see why not. It’s about time she went outside anyways,” a shrug was her simple response and Shirou looked a bit relieved at this before focusing on his daughter once more. Rin watched him tenderly pat Hajime’s head and hold her a bit closer, telling her what Rin could only assume to be “Yes,” but with a few more words.

The girl beamed at him, leaning her head on his chest and making a small sound of celebration before Shirou walked to the door of Rin’s room. “I’ll take her back to her room so she can put her things away – should we meet by the front?”

Rin nodded, and the white haired male was soon out of sight, the sound of his footsteps and Hajime’s bubbly laughter fading away as well. After sitting still for a moment, she stood, turned off the lights in her room and closed the door before leaving, following after the two.

As she heard her own feet against the wood, her mind wandered back to the times when she had stayed in this small estate during the Holy Grail War, all the chaos that had happened behind her back, Archer, and…

Rin felt a small feeling of dread drop into her stomach at the thought of the Servant. The man who had been no other than the one she had fallen for, but in a completely different mindset, personality and timeline than the Shirou whose home she was travelling through that very moment. Archer had, in reality, done so much for her, for his other self (the Shirou who was currently holding Hajime), for the other Servant, Rin felt bad for all the accusations she had thrown at him. All the scolding, everything. He had had pure intentions, and she failed to see this until the War ended and he gave her only one request – one request out of all the favors that she owed him, and it was an important one, that she could not deny, but she felt as if she should have done more for him, forgiven him while she still could say it to him, embrace him and tell him that all his past efforts had brought such joy to another person.

But she couldn’t do that anymore. She had no chance of being able to Summon him again, speak with him again and apologize for everything. Then again, what were the chances of him actually acknowledging her apologies? Nil, that was what first popped into her mind, but if this was the Shirou she had come to know and (admittedly still) love, he would at least listen to her words and realize the regret she had been gathering in her gut.

Stopping in her tracks, Rin paused to look out at the grass just beyond the sliding doors that were open, letting the fresh air in.

Archer deserved more than what had been given to him – betrayal, hate, death, and his motivations made sense. But if it weren’t for Shirou’s Servant, Rin probably would never have realized any of this. It was thanks to her that Rin could be enlightened and realize this, but she was still too late in discovering it all.

A breeze blew towards her, gently pushing her hair from her face, bringing her to her senses and reminding her that she needed to meet up with Shirou by the front door. Turning back to the hallway, she resumed walking, trying her best to take her mind off of the man who had never asked much of anyone.

 

A/N:

You guys have no idea how much stuff I've looked up for this story. Well, maybe you do, or it isn't nearly as impressive as you might think, but still, it's more effort than I've ever put into anything before, including school projects. Which isn't saying too much, since I don't really dedicate a lot of time to my school projects or assignments unless it's a free-write paper or art homework, but still.

I looked up adoption documents and the process (which sadly didn't come in nearly as handy, or get put in nearly as much as I would have thought), average size of a child's hands, war tactics of the Roman Empire, WWI and WWII, the parts of the brain, motor control signals in the body, Japanese elementary school admissions, average ages for elementary schools and Japanese school regulations and requirements, as well as a lot of predictions people have for warfare in the 2020's. I had to suffer through re-watching all three endings of Fate/Stay Night all over again, and re-watching the anime, as well as the one for Fate/Zero, and read up on Fate/Grand Order (as well as play the English version), Fate/Apocrypha, and thoroughly scan the Wiki on all types and parts of Magecraft.

And, despite all that, I'm fairly confident I'm going to forget a large chunk of it over the course of writing this whole thing, so longer pauses than normal probably mean I had to reread some book or Wiki(pedia) page. Sorry about that.

And for some reason I thought that reading the Ace Attorney Wiki would come in handy too, probably because some of it takes place during the 2020's, but really, that isn't a good reason to do that. I really don't know why I started reading through it, but whatever.

And in addition to research I have so much planned for this story oh my god but I'm still in the really slow stage of Hajime's childhood oh boy it's going to take ages to write down everything -

I have four books in this series and then two more series that are based off of this one with four parts each, possibly less than four but we'll see when we get there. I have a whole thing of over 7000 words vaguely describing the plots of each book and oh boy I still have a lot to add I don't know what to do with myself.

And adding onto those two series, there's another two on top of that with the plots all fully written out and there's more under construction.

What am I doing with my life, I question myself.

Oh, also as some of you may have noticed I published another story called Whatever You May Be. I'm not encouraging you to read it as much as I'm telling you it is related to this story, as unlikely as that may seem. So yeah, feel free to follow that too if you want to get a peep and possibly a whole look into some of this really complicated mess of plots that I've come up with.

Fair warning, though, if it gets far enough into it, it holds spoilers to the ending of PM.


	5. Chapter 5

Shirou was rudely awoken on an early Saturday morning by the blaring sound of a car trying (and succeeding) to catch his attention from beyond the gate.

Sitting up rather suddenly, his vision was blurry for a moment before it cleared up as he clumsily clambered out of bed, feeling the sheets slide off of his bare chest. Hurriedly, he pulled on a pair of pants and a short-sleeve shirt, jogging out of the room, down the hall (if he could even call it that) and out the door to the front gates, unlocking and opening them. In the back of his mind, Shirou sincerely hoped Hajime hadn’t woken up to such a loud and harsh sound.

As soon as he took a few steps out, the poor male was tackled to the ground by a familiar woman with considerably shorter stature, and equally yet not equally short brown hair. But if you squint, you’d see a few white strands.

Shirou felt his head hit the pavement, miraculously not breaking anything, but entering a slight daze from the sudden impact.

“Shirou, you bastard! You adopted a child without telling me first!” He didn’t even get the opportunity to respond, his collar being jerked forward as the woman shook him. “Why didn’t you let me know?! You know I’ve always wanted to see grandkids!”

He wanted to tell the woman that Hajime wasn’t a grandchild to anyone. She was his legal guardian, not his mother. If there was a fine line between the two, he wasn’t sure, but he honestly couldn’t be bothered to think about that at the moment, not with that very woman nearly pushing him into a coma.

Shirou stopped taking in her angry exclamations very quickly, trying to regather his composure (not an easy feat, mind you, being shaken back and forth so hard that you could feel your brain hitting the inside walls of your head doesn’t help much), but found his efforts unsuccessful. The woman realized what she was doing to him not a moment too soon, but several moments too late, his dizziness heavily affecting him.

“Fujimura, good to see you,” the woman heard someone call to her, and looked up, meeting a pair of familiar blue eyes.

“No need to be so formal, Taiga’s fine,” she grinned, getting off of the dazed man on the floor and leaving him there as she walked over to Rin. Said Magus shot Shirou a pitying glance before focusing on the new guest. “How’ve you been? It’s been ages since I last saw you!”

“Ages is pushing it,” Rin smiled. “I’ve been well, from what I heard you were shocked to hear Shirou ended up adopting a girl. I had the same reaction at first, but if you’re worried about her, no need. He’s doing a good job, surprisingly.”

The English teacher let out a relieved sigh. “I don’t know the brat but at least she isn’t dead.”

Rin snorted. “I doubt Shirou would let her touch anything remotely dangerous, much less get into a situation where death is a possibility. You don’t give him enough credit. She’s a nice kid.” Taiga nodded in understanding, before the two women heard a soft groan of pain and annoyed muttering. “Are you okay down there?” Rin approached him.

“Peachy,” he said sarcastically, obviously still in some levels of dizziness and pain. “Taking a fall with a woman hitting you at full force and being shaken countless times is no big deal, my head definitely isn’t throbbing right now.” She was tempted to roll her eyes but she didn’t.

“Well, never mind that,” Rin held out a hand which he took gratefully and she helped him up. “Hajime woke up a moment ago, she’s still in your room.”

At the mention of his daughter’s name, his back straightened. Shirou took one of Taiga’s two suitcases (she would be staying for not too long but, he noted, it seemed she saw no harm in bringing too much), and sped-walked towards the house, leaving the two women behind without even glancing back. Taiga stared after him with a raised brow and Rin just sighed, crossing her arms. “See? He isn’t going to let her get into anything.”

“I see what you meant,” Taiga snickered. This was going to be fun.

Shirou had already unlocked the door, leaving it ajar just a little so the two ladies could enter while he put the suitcase aside, striding off to go find Hajime. Just as Rin had said, he found the young girl in their room, kicking her legs back and forth. She had been staring into space before looking up at him, startled by the door opening rather suddenly, before smiling. “G’morning Daddy!” she greeted in her mother tongue.

He gave her a smile as well, much brighter and happier than her own, glad to see her in the morning. “Morning, kiddo,” he responded, his accent still shining ever-so-slightly.

“What was the loud scary noise?” He should have expected that.

“It was a car - do you remember what cars are?” Shirou asked patiently, giving her a kiss on the forehead before going to the wardrobe to get her something to wear.

“Uh-huh! The four-wheeled things with windows and chairs and lights!” Hajime sounded so proud of herself for reciting the description.

“Every car can make a honking sound if the person who’s driving wants to, the scary noise was a car outside honking,” he explained and she giggled. Honking was such a strange word to use.

“Why was the car honking?” Shirou helped her take off her pyjamas and pull on a light blue yukata.

“Remember I told you Auntie Fuji’s coming?” Hajime nodded eagerly. “That was Fuji’s car – she just arrived and she wanted me to know she’s here.” His daughter’s expression lit up with realization and understanding, suddenly giddy.

“Is she nice?” Her father chuckled nervously.

“Well…I suppose.” Hajime gave him a frown. “She’s a bit excitable, but yes she can be nice.” Her expression changed to one of relief. Shirou patted her head as he finished putting her hair into a ponytail. “Let’s go meet her,” he beckoned her after him and she hopped off the bed, running over to him.

The man waited until the sound of her footsteps were just beside him before he walked with her to the front of the home where the two women were waiting. Just like a good handful of mornings ago, Hajime was once again nervously hiding behind Shirou’s leg, brown eyes blinking owlishly at the newcomer.

Taiga, noticing her only after asking where the girl was and Shirou’s struggle to get Hajime to show herself, became very excited, almost glowing, resulting in the resident father raising a singular silvery brow. He didn’t realize she’d be this enthusiastic about meeting his daughter.

“You must be Hajime!” Taiga strode over with a shining aura, crouching down to the child’s eye level, who shrunk back a bit in response. “I’m Taiga Fujimura, your dad’s guardian!”

Hajime stared at her in confusion before tugging on her dad’s shirt, looking up at him and asking him something in a language Taiga didn’t understand (oh, right, she caught herself, it was probably Korean), then looked back to the light brown haired woman and nodded, looking a little more at ease.

“Nice to meet you,” were the girl’s simple and sincere words, and Taiga internally squealed. Usually she hated children because they were loud and unreasonable but it seemed she’d grown softer over the years. Or maybe it was because this girl was her ward’s adopted daughter.

“Gosh, you’re so cute,” she cooed, petting Hajime’s head softly and the girl seemed content with the gesture. “How did someone like Shirou get his hands on someone like you?” Taiga pinched the child’s cheek fondly, extracting a whine.

“You two have much too little faith in me,” Shirou jokingly sighed and Taiga shot him a pouting look.

“I have complete and total faith in you, what’re you going on about?”

“What you just said isn’t helping your case!”

Rin sighed and stepped forward, nudging Taiga out of the way and gently pulling Hajime over to the table. “You guys are impossible, let’s just eat already, Shirou, Hajime and I just woke up, plus I doubt Fujimura – “

“Taiga,” the English teacher corrected.

“ – Taiga,” Rin adjusted, “isn’t at least a bit hungry.”

Shirou was silent for a moment before sighing in defeat, shooting his daughter a smile before walking into the kitchen to fix breakfast. Taiga, in a more calmed state, studied his form, then moved her focus to Hajime and crawled over, having still been crouching on the floor. “Hajime, do you like playing games?”

“Uh-huh,” the girl bobbed her head up and down. “I like puzzles the most!”

This seemed to pique Rin’s interest. “What kinds of puzzles?”

“Uhm…” Hajime thought long and hard, the two women assumed it was to recall what the names were in Japanese. “Puzzles that make you think a lot! Ones that mess around the words and colors and make it really confusing!”

“Ah, mind and strategy games,” Rin supplied and the girl repeated it softly under her breath to memorize it. “What do you like about them?”

“Playing games that don’t make you think are boring! Being someone else is boring too! So games that make you think really, really hard are the best! You learn more!” Hajime explained firmly, brows creased, determined to get her point across. “Learning is good for people because you know more about the world!” Taiga was amused by the girl’s obvious effort to try to remember the words as she spoke.

“You’re a smart kid,” she grinned. “I can see why Shirou likes you so much!” The girl lit up at this. “So, what’s your favorite game?”

“Me and Daddy play a game called Clue a lot,” Hajime replied, the English word coming off her tongue so fluidly, Taiga briefly wondered if Shirou had been teaching her how to say that specifically for a while.

“That’s an old game,” Rin noted aloud and Hajime tilted her head. “The game is very, very, very old, from long before your Daddy and even Fujimura were kids like you.” The girl made a prolonged “ah” sound in understanding. “I’m surprised your Daddy even knows about it.”

The sound of footsteps leaving the kitchen brought the girls’ attention to Shirou, walking out with a few plates of breakfast. “I’m not that uncultured, Rin,” he gave her a look but she just shrugged it off.

Taiga sniggered but Hajime looked around, confused, not understanding the word Shirou had spoken. Had something funny happened? Her father noticed her state of confusion and briefly explained to her in Korean.

Breakfast, unlike when Rin had first encountered the father and daughter duo, was cheery and full of life. The perks of having such a child-like (childish, really, and yes, there is a difference) family friend, she supposed. Hajime and Taiga seemed to be on the same page on everything. She watched with a slight sense of nostalgia as Shirou and Taiga began bickering over something she had said about him that was, quoting Shirou, “totally untrue.” It much reminded her of the moments she shared with the two during the Fifth Holy Grail War, with his and her Servants.

But Rin shook it off before the thought of the latter two could place her in another sour mood. She studied Shirou carefully, hearing but not quite listening to what they were saying as he huffed at his legal guardian, who reprimanded him, all the while Hajime helplessly looked between the two of them, completely and utterly lost. This time, however, unlike all the other times the two had bickered, Shirou seemed genuinely saddened. Perhaps he was thinking the same thing she was.

After all, Rin wasn’t the one who had been affected by that War the most. If anyone, it was him.

She was snapped from her thoughts when Shirou announced he was going to go teach Hajime more Japanese, taking his dishes to the kitchen before leaving, Hajime in tow. And thusly, she and Taiga were left alone, the older woman sighing at the male, murmuring things under her breath.  
Rin hesitated. “Fuji – I mean Taiga,” she quickly corrected herself, “did you notice?”

The woman’s expression got noticeably more serious. “I did.”

The Magus’ eyes trailed to the glass of water she was holding. “…I hope they’re going to be okay.” Taiga made a sound of agreement.

-

Shirou definitely couldn’t say he was feeling great. And no, this had nothing to do with the moment of physical abuse he had suffered at the hands of the light brown haired woman.   
This was the emotional kind of miserable.

Usually he would fondly recall the petty arguments he held with Taiga, remembering how his Servant would always butt in and defend him, a fist raised at the English teacher as a threat, prepared to fight if the situation called. He would try to step in before she made a mess, and during Rin’s stays, Archer would watch calmly before standing and placing a hand on the other Servant’s shoulder, sharing a silent conversation before she stopped, apologized, and regained her composure.

He’d never understood why this happened and he had a sinking feeling of jealousy in the pit of his stomach. That is, he had that feeling until the War was coming to a close. Shirou understood it all now, the bond the two had held that neither he nor Rin had known about. It was for the Masters’ own good the two did not reveal it. Whenever Shirou looked at Hajime, he would play out the scenario in his mind that his Servant had stayed with him, that she could raise Hajime with him.

But of course he knew this wasn’t possible, he couldn’t make that imaginary life a truth. Besides, he’d already lost too much, the thought that she could have died during World War Three nearly killed him every time it crossed his mind. The suffering he made himself go through every day by thinking of those he had lost was something he did voluntarily. The least he could do for those whose names would likely never be heard again.

He couldn’t count off how many he had lost. His blood parents, the people who had lived on his side of Fuyuki City that he had for so long desired to have saved, his adoptive father, his Servant, his comrades in the military, to name a few. Though, there were a few who stood out.

Naturally the first two that popped into his mind were the aforementioned; his adoptive father and his Servant. However, another one would always pop up soon after. His friend, his best friend, his brother, his partner in battle. Shirou couldn’t bear to think of him for long, the end the man had suffered was far worse than anything he had seen, far worse than he deserved.

The man was cold, stoic, his golden eyes that resembled his own had always shone with life and purpose, with rage and hope. For the sake of the moment, he recalled the man’s face. Dark skin, buzz cut white hair, stern and strong features. Though the image didn’t last for long, it was soon replaced by the image of that very man covered in blood, holes riddling his body. Without realizing, Shirou’s hands twitched, his eyes almost closing to keep himself from losing his composure. Not with his daughter standing so close to him.

He could nearly feel the weight of the man’s body on his own all over again, the blood soaking their uniforms, the man’s sad yet happy chuckle, thanking him for being alive. No, he didn’t want to be the one have been saved. It should have been Shirou who had died that day, it should have been Shirou who left first. If his friend had survived, Shirou was sure he would have gone and found Hajime as well.

The man reached to his left shoulder, clenching it softly as he stared at the floor, absently sitting down before taking out some of Hajime’s Japanese practice books. To some extent, Shirou regretted joining the Military Forces to help in the war, but at the same time if he hadn’t, would he have saved Hajime?

The answer was a blunt “no,” he realized this, and that made him grateful to be alive. Not to mention his best friend would have failed his mission, his sole mission, his sole reason for existence, his Servant would have been disappointed in him, Rin and all his friends and family would have been devastated. His friend had nobody. Nobody but Shirou himself. That man came from no family, no friends, no origin story, just a goal. He had never drawn close to anyone in their Special Ops group, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyways. By the time the Battle of Pyongyang had been upon them, the final battle of World War Three, almost all of the members of the Magi Special Ops group had been killed one way or another.

By then it was just Shirou, his best friend, and two others.

He brought his attention back to his daughter, opening to the thirteenth page, studying the hiragana covering the page. Oh well, he needed to take his mind off of this for a bit, it would be for the best that he not be so down around his daughter who still had so much to learn.

-

Taiga revealed not too much later that she was going to kick back and live with Shirou and Hajime from then on, making the former sigh and the latter hug her happily. It seemed that was the reason she had brought so much with her in the beginning.

Hajime was, naturally, sad to see “Auntie Rin” go, but the woman promised she’d visit as much as she could. Before she left, Rin made sure to share a few words with Shirou about something he refused to explain to his daughter, much to her dismay.

Time passed, and Hajime was soon speaking enough Japanese to get around in daily life, getting a congratulatory gift of a book from Shirou and new English lessons from Taiga. Though she seemed a bit bummed at first, hearing she’d be getting lessons on another language as well, but she quickly got over it. She’d never been one to hate it, after all. She began to head out more and more, and though she did get strange looks from those she passed, she seemed to be enjoying it.

Shirou did honestly do his best to explain Magic Circuits to her, but she wasn’t picking up quickly. It would take a lot of effort, he realized with a sigh as he watched her stare intently at the underside of her forearm. He had said to, for now, think of them as veins (as inaccurate as that may be, in its own way), and that resulted in her concentrating on all the blood-carrying vessels in her body. It wasn’t going to get her anywhere – maybe he should have asked Rin for help while he could.

He opened his eyes. No, he couldn’t give up this easily, that would be the most damning experience he could go through if he did. Giving up on helping his daughter wasn’t a thing he would let himself do. It was for the best she knew about Magecraft and how to use it. Though he himself was a third-rate Magus, with Projection as his strongest point (a type of Magecraft often conceived as relatively useless), he knew that if he tried enough early on he might be able to help her get further than he had.

Shirou wasn’t sure exactly how he was to go about this but he’d just see what he could do in the moment while he tried.

He hoped this would work, that she would be able to have the upper hand in whatever situation she entered. Naturally, he would never know until they were actually in such a situation, but he wasn’t going to let her get into one, not on his watch.

-

The holiday season came quicker than anticipated, various such days surrounding the Emiya household. Chanukah, Christmas, Winter Solstice, New Year’s, any other holidays he didn’t know of. He didn’t celebrate Chanukah, and he’d long since stopped celebrating Christmas after he entered the battlefield. The Winter Solstice never stood out to him much, but New Year’s was something he could get into the holiday vibe for.

Hajime didn’t know what to celebrate because she didn’t know much, and though she naturally liked the idea of getting presents for Christmas, she’d rather only celebrate what her father wanted to celebrate. So, she was excited for the day before and the day of the New Year.

Shirou fondly recalled the moment when he told Hajime that his birthday had already passed, and she huffed and puffed at him, clearly disappointed. He didn’t tell her that he didn’t know his actual birthdate. It was simply the one Kiritsugu, his adoptive father, had given him. Specifically, November seventeenth, 1987. He didn’t know if this was his actual birthdate but he’d gone with it for so long it’d be a shame to drop it. According to that date in time, he was currently thirty-eight. Not a bad age to be a father, he nodded at himself.

Hajime had made some progress in her Magecraft, and he soon realized (and berated himself for not doing so before) that, like him, she had not a lot of Magic Circuits. It was an obvious conclusion to make, that she either did not come from a Magus family, or it was a very short lineage until her, but even then he doubted a Magus family wouldn’t have been noticed by the North Korean government and been taken in to be used in some way. So, it was much more likely her parents weren’t Magus and she just happened to have just enough potential to do some basic Magecraft like he knew; Projection, Tracing, whatever you prefer to call it (though the latter was a higher level of the former). His Reality Marble, Unlimited Blade Works, was an exception among exceptions because of his irregular Elemental Affinity. It shouldn’t be very possible for many Magus to use, much less achieve, so he doubted she’d be able to get to such a level.

Not that he didn’t have faith in her, he had plenty, he just didn’t want to push her to achieve things he wasn’t even sure if she had the capacity to do yet.  
Where she was now, she could vaguely create the outline of various smaller and simpler objects. A good start, he supposed, but she still had ways to go.

But he digressed – back to the holiday season. Shirou soon found himself going to various stalls in a festival, the only time of the year the youths found it necessary to respect the Japanese culture, and go about with yukata, going to see the fireworks and other such things. And as a result, here he was, easy to spot in the crowd, standing far above the average height, with silvery white hair and tanned skin. Not to mention, he was pulling a small girl along with him, whose hair color and skin tone drastically differed from his.

They cheerily exchanged conversation as Shirou pulled his daughter along, happiness evident in his expression. The festival wasn’t as big and colorful as it was when Shirou was younger, seeing as the ones who upheld the traditions happily, the older generations, had slowly died out or moved away.

Although New Year’s Eve was supposed to be an upbeat and celebratory event, Shirou couldn’t help but feel sorrow in the back of his mind. He used to spend this day with his Special Ops group reminiscing about the lives they had before, the dreams that had been crushed, the new and old hopes for the future. It was the only uplifting thing they had the time to do over the past eight years. Otherwise it was being on edge, making sure everything was in order, taking care of any jobs the rest of the military couldn’t do. They were a squad of Magi after all, they were banded together to carry out missions the rest couldn’t do.

He silently mourned his comrades as Hajime pulled him to watch the mochi being pounded, fascination gleaming in her eyes.

Shirou brushed it off. He needed to stop thinking about these things, it wouldn’t bring him any good. It only placed him in a sourer mood, and today wasn’t the day for that.

“Hajime, you haven’t had mochi before have you?”

-

Her forehead rested against his chest, even breaths spreading across the clothed surface. He gazed down at her, not intently, but with some unreadable emotion. The man’s fingers ran over her hair with such gentleness it seemed he was afraid she would shatter and break in his arms if he didn’t. She wasn’t quite asleep yet, he knew, but he should try to soothe her. The woman he loved so dearly, the woman he had not seen in what was likely to be centuries, though she didn’t know.

“Go to sleep,” his attention was brought to her when her soft voice reached his ears. The woman peered up at him with tired but kind eyes, and he sighed through his nose. “You may not need rest, but trust me it helps sometimes.”

Her fingertips brushed over his cheek before she returned to her previous position, body close to his. He was warm.

“…if you so wish,” was his simple reply, a content air surrounding the both of them. However, she knew him too well to fall for it.

“If you want to tell me something, please, just tell me,” she whispered, almost sounding hurt. His heart almost broke right then and there, to see her like this wasn’t good for his health. He obsessed over her too much, it was going to be the end of him.

“I don’t want to worry you, ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓, you already have so much to worry about. I would only be wasting your time.” His words were the stubborn truth, the truth about him that she loved yet hated so much. What universe would they have to be in for such a thing to be a burden to her?

“░░░░░░, you are mistaken.” The man knew this was the response he would receive. “If you’re keeping your worries from me, you’ll only make things so much worse for us. I appreciate your concern, but this won’t get us anywhere.” She gave him a pleading look. “Please tell me if something is bothering you.”

He wanted so badly to resist, to tell her everything was fine, but he knew that when she reached this point, he always caved at some point.

“At the end of this War…” he paused to maintain his composure, drawing a concerned frown out of the woman. He rarely lost his composure. “At the end of this War, I will not be able to see you again. The others already know of my existence, though they have never seen me, and I fear what the future holds for you because of me will be anything but good.”

An understandable fear, she realized, but it likely wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. “Don’t worry yourself, ░░░░░░, everything will be taken care of when the moment comes. For now, let’s worry about the more immediate future, alright?”

They studied each other carefully for a moment before he smiled softly. “Thank you, ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓, you really have no idea how much this really means to me.”

“Perhaps not, but let’s just pretend I do for now,” she said with a joking tone, tucking her head below his chin again. “Let’s get some rest. That is most important at the moment.”

He chuckled lightly and adjusted himself so they were a bit more comfortable, rubbing her shoulder fondly, lulling her to sleep after a few moments. She must have been more tired than she had let on if she passed out that quickly, he noted.

The man let his form relax, and his eyes close. The chilly evening air didn’t mean much to him, not as long as she was beside him.

-

Hajime wasn’t sure what she wanted to do now, cry or smile. School sounded scary to her, scary and bad and mean, because there were so many kids and her father kept warning her. If he was worried, something bad might happen. However, she had no choice in the matter, she knew, so here she stood in front of her new school, in her uniform (which she had stuck her tongue out at first but no time was wasted to let her know she would have to wear it often from that day on), and her bag. Shirou had made sure to walk her to school, get her all ready, but now that she was here, Hajime wasn’t feeling all that confident.

She hadn’t been feeling confident before, either, but now that she was actually there, she was about ten times worse off than a moment ago.

But, as mentioned, she knew she had no choice, so off she went to her first day.

-

“How was your first week of school?” Rin had come to visit again, taking advantage of her short time off to pass on by the Emiya household.

Hajime didn’t respond at first, simply rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, before looking up at her. Rin had gotten used to the tired Hajime by now; the girl became rather…aloof? She wasn’t sure what the right word was. “It was okay. The other kids were nice to me but one of them said he couldn’t talk to me because his daddy told him he couldn’t talk to people from Korea.”

The Magus internally clasped her hands together, silently thankful Shirou wasn’t in the room in that specific moment, or he’d be calling the principal about this. Already she was facing discrimination and prejudice. Hajime was Korean, after all, and while Rin was well aware not all Koreans were bad people, it had become a widespread stereotype in Japan for any new Koreans there were probably North Koreans who needed to find a new home.

Which was true to some extent, but Hajime wasn’t someone who deserved such treatment this early in her life. Some hated all Koreans, because they were idiots who didn’t think twice about who they were labelling as someone to be avoided. Some hated select Koreans, understandably (Kim Jong-Un would be a perfect example of someone most of the peoples in Japan tended to dislike in general). Some didn’t hate them at all.

“Miss Rin, why do people hate Koreans so much? Did we do something wrong?” The woman hesitated at this.

“Well…to fully answer your question I’ll have to give you a fuller explanation of what happened about eight years ago,” Hajime nodded in response, willing to hear her out. “Korea was originally two countries, North Korea and South Korea. South Korea and North Korea were very different in perspectives, the South was, in a sense, similar to Japan in that it wasn’t as controlling as North Korea.

“North Korea was infamous for its leader at the time, Kim Jong-Un, whose family and he had in effect brainwashed the North Korean citizens into believing that they were gods or superior beings of some sort.” The girl frowned. That sounded horrible. “In 2017, Kim Jong-Un decided to fire missiles at America, and that resulted in America declaring war and starting to fight against North Korea, other countries like Japan, South Korea, Taiwan and Canada joined in for reasons that aren’t being disclosed. It’s been a common belief during and since the war that because North Koreans were brainwashed to believe certain things, that they need help, which would be true if they knew what they were supposed to believe.  
“However there are some who believe that all Koreans are insane, people who are toxic to society. And that boy’s father must have been one of these people.” Rin studied Hajime as she thought over the information she had just been given.

After a moment, the girl concluded that “people are stupid.”

Rin almost snorted at the bluntness of the statement but made no visibly amused response. “You could put it that way, yeah.” She just hoped Hajime wasn’t going to start hating the Japanese just because of these small displays of racism. Not all people were as bad as they seemed from this. Then Rin paused in her thoughts.  
That statement wasn’t true when she mulled over it again. It was far from the truth. She’d have to help make sure Hajime wasn’t swayed to believe all people could be so foolish as to believe such ridiculous beliefs.

 

\--  
A/N:  
        DEAR LORD I HAVEN'T UPDATED THIS IN AGES, I'M SO SORRY!  
        I'm here pulling excuses out of my ass about school, extracurriculars, and all that but you don't have to believe me.  
        Now, a note to the readers on Quotev (I'm publishing this in three places: AO3, Quotev and FanFiction.net), you probably know about this story and its series predecessor, Dark Angel. In all honesty, and in my opinion when I reread it last summer, that thing was just a cringe bomb waiting to go off. And if you know that one and have read it, you're probably wondering "how on Earth is this story related to Dark Angel?" since I labelled this book as a rewrite. Fair question, dear reader, and here is your answer.  
        Like it says in the description of this story, this is book one of four. If you're looking for the content you saw in Dark Angel, you're going to be waiting for a long while, because, spoiler alert, the content in that story isn't going to appear for a while. Sorry if that disappoints anyone.  
        On another note, as the horrible author I am, I'm finding it incredibly dull and boring to write out Hajime's entire childhood when not all of it is important. As you may have noticed (and as a result of this boredom), I will be skipping around quite a bit because I'm much too eager to get to the main plot, and that excitement will probably be my ruin as I mess everything up by rushing through it by accident.  
        Oh well, if I screw up and you don't like it and want to correct it feel free to talk to me about it. Constructive criticism is welcomed and encouraged, be harsh if you want, as long as I get something helpful out of it it's fine. Once we get to the main part I really hope you guys will like it, it makes me kind of nervous just thinking about it. Ah well we'll see when we actually get there and not in my imagination.  
        A bit off topic, but it can take me a decent amount of time to find inspiration to write chapters. Not in the way that I have to come up with things, I already have that taken care of, it's a matter of how inspired and/or motivated I am to write in the first place. If I'm not inspired it's going to be real half-assed and I don't want to post that because it's bad content, and you all don't deserve that sort of writing, just an explanation for the few-month-long hiatus.  
        Most of the time that inspiration comes from listening to music (i.e. music from Panic! At The Disco, Indochine, Stromae, The Fixx, MONSTA X, DAY6, a cappella arrangements, etc.), so I welcome anything you guys might want to recommend, I'll gladly look into it.  
        Also, let me know if you want me to answer reviews left on the story for more fleshed out answers (and if you disabled PMs and I can't reply to the question you asked).  
        Happy seriously belated Chanukah, Merry Christmas (Eve, depending on where you are), Happy Early Kwanzaa, Happy New Year, whatever else I might have missed, and with that, peace out.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crossover of several parts of the fate series, including Fate/Grand Order, Fate/Stay Night, Fate/Zero and Fate/Apocrypha and contains some OC Servants I made myself.


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